Rocket to the Moon
by Sandra Strickland
Summary: "The man who has promised himself to make Helga his wife." Rhonda ended for him, a devious smile on her face . "Is that true?" He asked. She nodded widely "Why?" "Why?" she shrugged her shoulders. "Because he loves Helga? What about that?
1. Bitter Coffee

**Rocket To The Moon**

**Chapter 1**

**Bitter Coffee**

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_Teaser_

* * *

. . .

He stepped into the coffee shop and took a place behind the one person in the line. He'd taken a quick break from his workday and enjoyed the two blocks peaceful saunter. It had been a long day; he was in dire need of a few minutes to himself and took advantage that nobody was in the waiting room when the last person left his office. He did what he had wanted to do all day. Escape… if only for some minutes. He smiled to himself after having enjoyed the tender sun of the early spring in NY City in his way here.

"What can I do for you today, sir?" the boy in the cash register asked him when it was his turn.

"I want a caramel macchiato, please… venti."

"Regular milk, one or two percent?"

"Two percent," he paused as the kid typed his order "To go"

"Name?"

"Arnold."

After paying and receiving his change, Arnold went to sit to an empty table to the left while his order was prepared. He drew out his cellphone to take a quick check to the last Facebook notifications and messages.

'_I'm gonna be late again, love' _was his girlfriend message. Claire had also uploaded several photos of the group of kids they were taking care in the community center she volunteered. They were all hugs and smiles. It seemed that the fund to get glasses to those who couldn't afford them was a success. The blond boy smiled as he kept going through the rest of the pictures.

"_Arnold!"_ he left his chair when the barista called his name, then went to the pick up a napkin and a cup holder before walking to the exit. There were several people in the line now; blocking the way out. Arnold gripped securely the coffee in his hand seeing that he was going to be forced to make his way through the crowd.

"Excuse me"

People in front of him moved aside, he thanked them. He was about to reach the exit when someone touched his arm.

"Hey Arnold!"

Arnold turned around. He knew that voice.

"Hey Matt!" Arnold smiled. "Nice to see you. How are you doing?" Matt was a coworker from his previous job.

Matt smiled back shaking his hand.

"Nice to see you too, Arnold. What the hell are you doing around here?"

"I work here, just around the corner," Arnold pointed to the right, where his office was located.

"Good," Matt turned around, suddenly looking uncomfortable. Arnold guessed what all that was about. Rumors. All what was said when he left the firm. It was good to see Matt looking uncomfortable because he didn't want to talk about it, either. "It's true that you work at the community center?"

Shit. Arnold grunted inwardly; he took an intake before speak.

"No, in fact I work at Legal Bureau. It's a … center… supported by several companies to provide services to the community"

"So it's not pro bono? I mean, you work for an actual company?"

"Just like you…" Arnold answered sharply. "How's Anderson Johnson Bailey &amp; Partners doing by the way?"

"Fine, like always."

"How's everybody in there?" he took one more step reaching the sidewalk, hoping Matt remained behind, but the guy followed him.

"Happy with our jobs, I guess…"

"I am glad to hear that" so it was only him '_who couldn't stand to be there one more day'_? he thought as he saw his ex-partner hesitating. He decided to speak, before the awkward silence surrounded them. He opened his mouth to say goodbye when other question popped in his mind and went to his lips before he could stop it. "What are you doing here? I mean, the finnancial district is anything but near."

"We came to see a client…" he cleared his throat "… facilities…"

"Really?" Arnold took a sip of his coffee. It was hot. He took a moment before he could speak again "That's great…"

"_Arnold!_" the voice of a girl almost made him cringe. "What a coincidence!"

"Hi, Daphne," Arnold forced a smile when a blonde girl appeared in front of him.

"Did you come to the job interview too? How did you know?" she lowered her voice "I mean, they are not making it public. We were called in by…"

"Daphne!" Matt let out a low grunt. Arnold hid a smile. So, there were problems in that particular side of paradise called Anderson Johnson Bailey &amp; Partners, huh?

"Arnold works just around the corner" Matt spoke in a rush, obviously wanting to stop the girl from speak further.

"Oh,"

"Job interview?" Arnold raised a brow. He wasn't going to let this one go. Matt exhaled resignedly.

"Oh, geez!" the girl recovered quickly from her slip, looking Arnold up and down and then a pitiful expression got perched in her face,. "We heard you were working doing voluntary service after you left… that you couldn't find at job"

"That's what they say?" Arnold frowned. He supposed they were saying something like this already, but hearing it from her lips was a low blow.

"Arnold has a job," Matt informed her taking one of the coffees from the girl's hands.

"Oh, I am happy to hear that. It'd be a shame if you didn't. Everybody always said you had a brilliant future; being the first in your class and with all those recommendations…"

'_Sure_', Arnold nodded looking around. What they really wanted was surely to corroborate he was unemployed, or working without a paycheck. He let out a breath. Well, it was almost as if it was no paycheck at all actually, but he never was going to say it aloud, not to them anyway. Well, let's get over with this change of subject.

"And are you going to tell me where the interview was?" He asked with a small smile, as if letting them know he was not match for any of them, or for anyone else in the world. He was just a well-intended boy that still followed utopic dreams after all. He saw them hesitating. He knew Daphne hardly could keep things to herself. That was he was surprised she still worked for a firm that valued the secrecy of their corporative clients as the most precious thing in the world; far over basic human rights and … "Well well well… you two are kinda... getting me nervous with all this secrecy. We all know there are always firms and big companies looking for the kind of services we offer. Last week GE was looking for a lawyer versed in logistics; and this week I heard Sim-…" he paused for effect "… a couple of… other... interesting job posts ." His forehead creased and his voice dropped "I am not looking myself for a job, by the way. I am happy where I am. But you may be interested. Sorry if I…"

"Citibank," Matt said.

"Mueller," Daphne let out. Matt eyes admonished her.

"What I heard is Metropolitan Life and Simon &amp; Simon Estates, but yours options sound way better," Arnold showed slight interest. "Though I didn't know those two have recruiting offices around here."

"Of course they don't, you silly!" Daphne laughed "They are keeping it low so they don't use their headquarters. Which is a shame because I've heard their…"

"And how did you know, then?" he asked forcing a goofy smile to his face.

Daphne was about to answer when Matt cut in.

"It's secret. It wouldn't one anymore be if we tell you, right?"

"Fair," Arnold snorted "Well, it was nice to see you again guys" he said turning right.

"Oh, Arnold…" the girl look tuned despondent "We should meet again."

"Anytime; just give me a call." Arnold smirked "I work just around the corner, at 106th St. and Madison. We could go to have lunch or something."

The girl wrikled her nose.

"I get dizzy beyond the 87th"

"I guess she meant to have dinner or something," Matt spoke before Arnold got the chance to remark that she looked perfectly healthy now and she was far beyond the dizzy point. "It'd be nice to see Claire again; listening to her rant against transnational companies and what not. She's so funny."

Arnold felt that weight in his chest again.

"Yeah, it'd be nice. Give me a call anytime you feel like it and we fix it." He waved his hand and turned around.

When they were out of earshot he puffed. Claire wasn't there to entertain a couple of stupid assholes who couldn't keep a secret for the life of them. And to think what they thought of them, himself and Claire, as if they a couple happy-go-lucky of over idealistic, multinational corporations-haters and poor-people-lover jerks. He grunted. This awkward feeling falling over him again. Things weren't going the way he expected, he knew it. At least he finally knew it what was wrong with him. He was thirty now. Maybe he could use this night that Claire would be late to lie down and think about the future; about the rest of his life. Arnold took a sip of his caramel macchiato and was surprised to find that when the hot liquid touched his mouth it tasted bitter.

. . .

* * *

**Well, so here it is. It was supposed to be a teaser but it ended being chapter one. If it suffers any modification I'll let you know next chapter which will be here in July. What else can I say in advance? It'd be a long story but not as long as RL. This fic sets Hillwood in the State of Washington, so we won't see much of the rest of the gang because the action in this story happens in NY City. Well, I think that's all, Folks. See you soon.**

**I don't own Hey Arnold or any TM mentioned in here.**

**June 16, 2014.**


	2. I Need to Lie Down

**Hi everybody, as I promised is July and I am back. I hope to keep updating two or three chapters per month, but this doesn't mean necessarily I'll post every ten, fifteen days. If I delay I want all you know it's not because I forgot, but because some chapters won't be easy and will need more time.**

**Now, a little background since is not place to clear it up in the chapter. As most of you already realized, Arnold is a commercial/corporate lawyer in here. The gang won't be seen around and this story will have a bunch of OC, to whom I hope you get to know before the real action starts.**

**Now on with the reading  
**

* * *

**Rocket to the Moon**

**Chapter Two**

**I Need to Lie Down**

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.

Arnold hurried his steps to reach the opposite sidewalk when the green light started to blink. On a rainy, snowy day he'd take the bus to reach his apartment, but the rest of the times he used to walk. It was only a 20 minutes' walk after all, and besides, tonight he wanted to buy a cable to have his home theater system finally mounted. There were several electronics stores on 116th street. He adjusted the lapels of his coat to keep the cold outside as he went on.

The uncomfortable feeling that the encounter with his friends left in him hadn't totally washed away. To see how eager they seemed to know everything about him and his new job, to confirm the suppositions they have still itched him. Suppositions that a well bunch of people at AJB &amp; P were having, he knew it; he still had some real friends in there. Why people cared about this so much he'd never know. Maybe it was just the way people were. What he disliked was being object of examination only because he got tired of working for a firm that extolled mercantilism far over all the other 'Values' that were carved at the entrance of their offices, along its Mission and Vision, and he'd said it aloud. Now he was the 'idealist young lawyer', the 'unconventional', the 'strange', 'the outcast'. Arnold puffed as he pushed open the door of the first electronic store in the street.

. .

Minutes later the blond young man grunted after leaving the third store. What was it? No one has a simple 18 ft. long speaker cable? Maybe he needed to go to a supermarket. It was probably easier to find what he wanted in there. He held his breathe as he entered into the fourth shop in a row. Without answering the conventional greeting of the clerk, he spat to him what he was looking for. The kid asked for a minute as he walked up to farthest corner of the store and got lost in there.

Arnold turned around looking without seeing the glass counters and walls filled with merchandise as he let out some steam. After a while, he blinked; seemed that this store was well supplied. With his luck surely they have anything _but_ the cable he was looking for, he thought with sullenness. He extended his hand to take a No More Nails tube, and then a plastic staples small pack. If it was the case … which one would do better?

"Here, sir" the boy reached his side and showed him several products, thin cables, for real; one of them was even longer than what he needed. Arnold raised his brow and smirked to himself, choosing the cream colored cable that matched his bedroom walls; then asked for two; they were two speakers after all. Deciding he didn't want to wait for the adhesive to dry, he took the staples package and reached the kid by the cash register reaching for his wallet in the back pocket.

After extending a twenty dollars note he waited for the change; they weren't even expensive; that what upset him the most; if they were he'd understand to some extent the deficient stocking of the former stores. While waiting for the receipt to be print, he raised the sight to the strangely stock-free wall behind the counter and blinked twice. Who would have thought? He knew very well the logo imprinted in that wall. Not only because he had seen it in a daily basis back in Hillwood when he was a kid, but because he knew the brand had reached nationwide expansion nowadays. The emblem had changed through the years. It was still a brown and green circle that read 'Big Bob Stores' but now had a stylized imperial crown in the center and a single bold, red, capital **'M'** letter in the back.

. . .

Arnold left the store and walked further north. Two blocks north and two more to the left. For a while his mind went blank, the prior awkward mood abandoned him. A strange peace lingered over him instead, something like nostalgia, for times long gone. For the old neighborhood, for his old friends and his clique; for a simpler and easier life….

His feet carried him to his street in automatic while his mind was still void of thoughts. He stopped at the corner to order a pizza, asking them to send it up when it were ready, all the while moving like an automat again. Then reached home and climbed up the few steps to his entrance, took off his coat, turned on the lights. The odd numbness still filled him as he went right to the bedroom he shared with Claire. It was really a strange feeling, he could almost smell it…

The smell of the boarding house; smell of old, worn wood; of the times when his grandparents were still around; the smell of the basement. It brought a lot of memories to his mind. He remembered his soft bed and the red couch when his best friend spent the night in there. He reminisced the hallways of PS 118, its playground; the courts where they used to play football in high school. Remembered when all what love meant was to get a date for the upcoming dance; then to get lucky. When he still could let himself to be idealistic. 'Idealistic', he scoffed to himself. 'Idealism'. The word collided against him, bringing him back to the uncomfortable mood. He used to hold the word like a banner. It was pathetic. The word itself had an awful definition to him now. It's was the philosophy of the 'pretty ideas', of the 'great ideals'… of the 'good intentions' that are never carried out.

. . . .

Reminders of his previous concept of idealism followed him as he plugged in the cable and threw it up to the corner of the wall and then along the line of the ceiling. He nailed a staple every few inches. The nostalgia for the past had also left him without full awareness. The awkwardness settled again. A quick view of his life and of the decisions he took and got him right here this moment clouded his mind. The realization of his own mistakes. He raised his sight to look at his work. Yes, eighteen feet were perfect. He plugged the adaptor of the other end of the cable into the speaker that was already hanging from the rear wall and hide the reminder inches of cable behind it. Quickly he took the three steps _pink_ ladder and placed it by the opposite wall. It was easy, but he wanted to get the job done before the pizza arrived.

Fifteen minutes later he was taking the ladder back to the corner where it belonged, the kitchen corner, right behind the door; when there was a knock in the door. His mind had uneasily traveled through the last years of his life. After graduating he left the US to go backpacking and know the world. He made some voluntary work at the same time. There were always places where a pair of hands was required, to build houses, to help towns raise again after suffering natural disasters, trying to help people to go through their bad time. It'd been pleasant despite its sordidness somewhat. It had been satisfying. Then he had to come back to America because he needed to get a real job. His savings weren't everlasting. The income coming up from the boarding house couldn't afford the lifestyle he dreamed to himself, to the rest of his life. It has to start sometime, and his twenty-four almost twenty-five it seemed the right time.

. . . . .

He got hired immediately by a firm specialized in Patrimonial Planning, not his favorite field but it was a good start. Then Anderson Johnson Bailey &amp; Partners came in with his canny approach and impeccable offices in the elegant Financial District. Almost immediately he fell into the good graces of one of the associates and his career winded up, everyone said it. For three years he was the biggest promise of the firm until they sent him to Bankruptcies and Contests. Bankruptcies and Contests wasn't his field, not at all. Dealing with people who was 'losing' everything wasn't his thing. It was hard to be not only a witness of all the things that happened there, but to play a part, the devil's part. The promising career that had been labeled as to be in a rocket to the moon went quickly downward. He decided to renounce before it all crashed miserably.

It was all. He said he had had enough and refused to take back his previous post. He said there had to be a place where his idealism was appreciated. Claire gave him all her support. Then he went right to look for a place where 'to help people' were acceptable, and he found it almost without effort. And he started to help people as it was his wish. But then he learned that helping people wasn't exactly what he thought. It wasn't the same thing to help people who had nothing, who had lost everything, than to help people whose circumstances and decisions have gotten there in first place. Okay, he helped people to legalize their properties. He also counseled people to get their business in form; helped them to understand their rights as American citizens and their obligations. But also realized that most of people who went looking for advice never followed the counsels and left everything right the way they were; their situation didn't change at all. And he realized that -as much he wanted to be blind to that,- laziness and resistance to change were the more frequent causes of their situation. He simply couldn't understand it. When he first accepted this job he thought helping people would be more satisfactory...

Well, it wasn't.

Then, after seeing this situation repeated itself he grew more and more disappointed with his job. And that without taking in consideration that along with his disappointment, his own finances were experiencing problems. His actual incomes didn't match his expenses. Not that he was a big spender. He had savings that'd keep him going still for months, Anderson's paid was good, but it wasn't the same thing. This situation shouldn't be kept any longer. He needed to find a new, real job. The thought had been in his head for the last couple of weeks but hadn't set down yet. But now he was here. Finally getting some time to himself, to think about future, to make plans. Time to meditate. He was lying on his bed, after having dinner, listening to soft music, jazz, had been long time without listening it. With no interruption due to Claire chat, to be watching TV, or because they were receiving late visits.

. . . . . .

He welcomed this time, he really did. He finally got to think deeply; get to resolutions. Maybe this was not what he wanted anymore. Maybe he wouldn't find the ideal job ever. Maybe the ideal job didn't exist and that had to be accepted, but he needed to start again; to find a new job, to make savings again, to build some wealth; to start living his future, the rest of his life.

And this was the other thing that have been hovering over his head; this one even longer than an unsatisfactory job.

His future; his life; to start a family…

Thinking on that he couldn't help but feel the sting of jealousy. Something that pinched his insides and made him feel bad. And he felt worse because he was actually happy for his friend. Gerald has a six months old baby girl and he was ecstatic. Every single day he posted a new photo of the little cherub; from her neat pink room to her flamboyant stroller; from her dark curly hair to her little perfect toenails. The baby was an angel, and Phoebe was for sure an excellent mother

That was what had him uncomfortable. Gerald had a perfect family. He had been married for almost four years and he had nothing. Not that he complained, it was his decision after all to be single. He had been engaged once to his college sweetheart but things didn't work and they broke it up. That was the closest he had been to marriage, but their relation didn't survived his traveling. It had been the only time he felt the need to formalize, but now that he thought about that maybe it was because he was too young and his feelings for the sweet girl were the purest he ever felt. Now he knew it wasn't real love; it was just that he wanted to feel tied to someone. The loss of his grandparents, his only real family, was still recent.

After Amy left he had gone through a bunch of dates that led him to nothing, until he met Victoria. Victoria was the girl that accompanied him to Gerald's wedding; they had been dating for about a year. Everybody pointed back then that she was his perfect match; that he was next in the line to walk down the aisle to the altar and he almost believe it for a while, until things with her also led to nowhere and they broke up before their second anniversary. Then Claire came up.

The thing was that even when Claire had been his girlfriend for almost three years, he hadn't proposed yet. Not that he had complaints about her. Claire was perfect almost in every sense. Sex was good. They had fun together. She was kind and compassionate about the same things he was; she was beautiful and she was a good girl. She'd made a terrific mother one day.

But he always thought that the decision to belong to somebody came with a necessity, with a passion, and he hadn't felt that passion yet. Was he selfish? Was he unfair? Was he being too idealist? Too naïve?

. . . . . . .

He didn't have anything to compare. Before he asked Gerald he already knew it wouldn't be fair. Gerald and Phoebe knew each other when they were kids, but became a couple until they ended up in the same town for college. She went to Premed at Brown, he was making Communication at Rhode Island State. Then they broke up three years later when Phoebe's medical school required all of her attention. But once she got back to Seattle to become a specialist in radiology they fell into each other arms like the most natural thing in the world; almost as if the years separated hadn't existed. So Gerald's case wasn't the appropriate to make a comparison. When he asked him how he decided to propose he simply answered he always knew he'd end up with her.

Arnold never felt that. Well, maybe only when he was in sixth grade and Lila finally accepted to go out with him. Maybe those two weeks they shared together he dreamed that she was the girl of his life. But Lila thought otherwise and dumped him. She was twelve and she already knew what she wanted, and it was not him.

But coming back to him again, was it real that he never felt that need? Was it only a dream that'd never become true? To feel like you're swept off your feet? To become obsessed about someone? To think about her all day long? He felt that way about Claire… long ago, when he met her, when he first started to date her. He felt that way even when he asked her to move in with him, after her roommate was relocated. It was the most natural thing to do after all. With Claire everything was always calm, natural. Maybe it was the pass of the time what made things look grey.

Thinking and thinking got him to realize he needed to make changes. Some people used to say that you yourself are who put things in motion. Maybe if he proposed it'd stir their relation and they reach that point; to get their world in movement. Thirty years was a good age to get married, to start a family after all. Gerald's girl would be twenty when he'd be fifty. And him?

Unconsciously he knew he needed some time alone to reach this point. To have an inside view of himself, to have this heart to heart with the other Arnold Shortman, the one who still have some optimism inside him. And finally to get to conclusions and to make plans. Tonight was a perfect night. Outside it was cold and frantic. It was getting late and Claire would be here any minute now.

Alright, conclusions: He breathed deeply. He needed to make changes. Maybe it was time to formalize his relation with Claire; to start to think about the future, a family, kids, a home. Of course it wouldn't happen right now; but it had to be a term, a time limit. Two months… three? Coming June he should to make a decision. He had three months to think pros and cons and not more vacillations. If nothing major comes, next June he'd be proposing.

And secondly, he needed to get a job, a satisfactory job if not the perfect job. He breathed again. _What would make the perfect job?_ Cunning Arnold inside his skull asked as he left the bed and walked to the main room to be sure if he hadn't left any mess; picked up the trash and closed the window. He replied to himself that it had to be a job where he'd help people in need, people who wanted to change, people who were convinced already. A job where he had the power to help them to make that difference, because he still didn't feel as if he had made a difference yet; of course it had to be a job where he could get well paid for doing that. That'd make his perfect job. He sneered. Cunning Arnold asked again that if it were all about dreams and fantasies, _what else he'd ask for to his perfect job, huh? What would be the cherry on the cake?_

Well, he snorted again but indulged nevertheless. It should be located in that high, smart looking building than was located in front of Anderson's; his office would be located in a higher level and… he hummed… _and_ it had to be no boss around. That was it.

. . . . . . . .

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**I don't own Hey Arnold! I don't own No More Nails.  
**

**Thanks for reading and special thanks to PresleyRox, MorTay3, Nep2uune and a Guest - who I suppose is C - for their reviews. I really appeciate them; ** as usual I'll answer them through PM**. I hope you also like this second installment. **

**Reviews are welcome :D**

**July 10th, 2014.**


	3. About Eyes and Princes

**Rocket to the Moon**

**Chapter Three**

**About Eyes and Princes **

* * *

. . .

After leaving the shower Arnold was getting ready for his working day. Another working day. It wasn't eight in the morning yet and they already had a visit: Brenda. He could hear her and Claire's voices in the kitchen but didn't care to listen. Surely they were talking about their job of last day at the community center. Well, about Claire's job, because Brenda absence was what kept his girlfriend working so late in first place.

Leaving the bedroom he entered into the kitchen where the girls' chat didn't die because of his presence.

"Do you think it'll work?" he saw Claire biting her lip "I mean… isn't it too…?" she vacillated, looking at the girl in front of her, then at Arnold, who was filling his bowl with cereal. She looked hesitant, but at the same time her eyes shone with excitement. Brenda didn't even bother to answer his morning greeting. It wasn't an isolated occurrence. Brenda almost lived with them. If they weren't late visits then they would be early visits. Every single day.

"Come on Claire! Do you think it kept me busy the whole afternoon for nothing? Everything is ready now."

"It just that… you're sure it'd be appropriate? I mean this soon?"

"Of course it is! I am telling you!" Brenda said with her loud voice again. Arnold exhaled noisily to make her remember he was also there, then he placed the bottle of milk in the middle of the table. He used to keep himself away from their business but hated seeing Brenda pushing Claire this way. "I know you also want this. We've worked hard and deserve something like this. This could be our moment to shine; what takes us to the next step."

"Is not the end what I am questioning, but the _means_…"

"We have the same rights that every other organization; and don't forget I already have the invitation…"

"Organization?" Arnold interfered, laughing half-heartedly "You are not an organization. You're only a couple of girls who work hard to…" Arnold stopped at the sight of Claire. Her dark eyes open to the maximums.

"We are an organization, Arnold." Brenda stated as Claire nodded slowly.

"Since when you are an organization?" he asked cautiously then. To his girlfriend, but the other girl answered.

"Yesterday afternoon…" Brenda emphasized with an ample nod, her blonde bangs moved up and down. He frowned.

"How did you…?" he stopped again. He needed to reformulate the question. "Did you consult Claire before doing it?"

"Of course I did! She totally agreed. Right, Claire?"

"You did?" he inquired Claire. Seeing Brenda hesitation made him realize he wasn't quite wrong with his assumption that it was all Brenda's idea and probably all Brenda's doing.

"I…" Claire stuttered. He turned to Brenda then.

"Do you know you didn't have any right to act upon your…?"

"Arnold…" Claire stopped him to speak with firmness "It's alright. Brenda didn't ask, but if she did I'd say yes. She knows that. I hope you don't have problem with that because I don't, in the least. Are we clear?" she looked at him in the eye.

Arnold inhaled deeply before nodding. Then exhaled; slowly. _Alright. If she was so sure…_

"Alright. If you're so sure…" he stretched his neck and then shrugged again, looking around in search of his stuff. He didn't know why he even cared, after all.

"I am" she stated, still firm. "And I also want you supporting me. I need you with me in this." She added then, holding her breath.

"If that's really what you want I'll support you. You know that." He said with coolness as he exhaled again. Feeling her questioning gaze still on him, he turned to say "What exactly you need me for?"

"I need you coming to the party with us."

"Why?" he protested "You know I that's not my kind of stuff…"

"Because I want you on my side; and because I know that despite _everything_, you also support this. As you said, we are only two girls out there; two lonely girls. We need you."

"Besides, you have this… bohemian air." Brenda intervened. "You look smart. You're honest; people always realize it. People see you and they know you are trustworthy. You'd make our organization to look more… authentic, more honorable."

Arnold frowned. Brenda flattering him? They were probably in dire need of him. But more that her praising what Arnold noted the most was Claire speech, her words. Seemed that she already knew _something_ was wrong to him, but she was being discreet. That meant Brenda did know nothing. His answer was nod, small but concise. He didn't want to press the subject any further. Not now. They'd talk about that later. Claire's brown eyes told him she was in the same tune.

"Alright."

Claire's smile attempted to be recompensing. He didn't know how to feel. He needed to go.

"Told cha! It was easy!" Brenda clicked her tongue and Arnold cursed inwardly. That girl was getting more and more insufferable the more he knew her. "I bet you didn't have a plan for that day, anyway."

Arnold took his time before answer.

"For a moment I thought you really needed me."

"And we need you. Really. But I told Claire she was worrying for nothing. I was sure you'd go"

"And why were you so sure?"

"Because it'd be quite The Ball; at Downtown, I mean, it's Lower Manhattan. Who would lose it?"

"Those who didn't get an invite…?"

"Well, but _WE_ got an invite…" Brenda rummaged inside her voluminous handbag. "And I didn't kill anybody to get it, did I?" finally she took out some small delicate looking paper with her big, kind of masculine hands and put them on the table. Arnold took the milk away, fearful that its wetness could damage the elegant golden and white invitations. "Do you have idea how hard is to get only _ONE_ of this darlings? Well, I got it, but not only one, _but THREE!_"

"And how did you get it?" Arnold asked without too much interest as he placed his bowl in the sink. Brenda turned to see him with such excited look in her face that made him regretting having asked. He turned to see the clock hanging in the kitchen wall.

"That, my friend, is the question!" she started with her strong, enthusiast voice "Remember Jenna? The girl from Soho I told you two about, like two months ago? The one I helped out when the musician she hired didn't came to the party…?"

Arnold shrugged, not caring to remember, but it was only because Brenda didn't wait for his response. She never did. Brenda had quite an interesting life. She was the kind of girl who was always involved in a variety of adventures _and_ misadventures; always involved in questionable, strange, sneaky episodes. Everything happened always to Brenda. She was like this character Kramer, from the TV show Seinfeld.

And she was somewhat Claire's best friend, but she was the kind of best friend who was always bossing her around. On Arnold's point of view, Claire had some other friends who could do a better job as best friend; friends who she could spend time with when it wasn't all about fundraisings and doing voluntary work.

Sometimes he thought Brenda used Claire because she was better looking. Brenda was attractive on her own style, but everything about her was big. She was too tall, too loud and too expressive; her features weren't particularly feminine. But what Brenda lacked in femininity, she more than made up for in the personality department. The girl was a bustling; she was a force of nature; with a thousand of ideas fluttering in her head. She led a group of girls, like Claire, who used to do voluntary work. She pointed them guidelines and objectives. She was always pushing them, making sure they do the job; that they got their goals. For an unknown reason, she seemed had developed a special bond with his girlfriend, who seemed to reciprocate the feeling.

"… and this is the put on practice of that idea." Brenda was still talking to him, seemingly unaware of his spacing out "So, they hope, Arnold, for this Ball, to be a success and become the first of many of its kind. It's the first time that the City summons all the corporations whose main offices are situated in Downtown. You know, like GE, Great Buy, Channell, McMart, Green Insurance Inc.… I mean, sorry, but only –the -_biggest- hugest_ companies, not firms like that shitty place where you worked before…" she jabbered, as if she were talking to an audience "Then there will be also us; the non-profit organizations who provide assistance to the different kind of needs…"

"I get it." He cut her off "Then this will be some kind of draft?

"A.. Huh… _draft_?" she frowned.

"You know, the draft, where teams trade their players…. But here, the organizations, like yourselves, will be selling themselves to the highest bidder?" he ironized "I must admit it. Rich people know how to entertain themselves, huh?"

"Come on, Arnold…"

"That's why you said you were hesitant _about the means, though not the end_, right?" he asked Claire.

"Well," Claire started "It's a great opportunity… what made me vacillate was that I still don't feel like we are an organization, but that's all. Not because I think we don't deserve to receive some help to, for instance, take "Eyes for US" to the whole district. Maybe even to dream and take it eventually to the County… to the State. Any of those companies can help us to carry out that dream. I am willing to work hard for that. If all I need to do is to be there and 'sell' us well, I'll do it." There it was her comeback to his sarcasm. Arnold snorted inwardly "What we need from them is money. And money is what they are willing to give away, if they show up, aren't they?"

Well, that was Claire for you all who didn't know her when she wanted to make her point clear. Arnold still admired her fervor even when he couldn't share it anymore. He should have gone long ago, now it was uncomfortable to be there. Something was definitively wrong with him.

"It's a huge opportunity! Can you see it too, Arnold? We could get the support we need…"

"Alright, alright," Arnold finally accepted. "Just tell me when to not make any plan…"

"Next Thursday,"

"Next Thursday, huh? Alright…" he walked to the bedroom again to pick up his jacket. "It's a date."

"I'll be late tonight… again…" Claire said when he was back in the kitchen and leaned to kiss her goodbye.

"Again?" Arnold complained. That meant another night in blank? No sex? Was that clean punishment now or what?

"We need to find our gowns!" Brenda was who spoke up now, excitedly, wiggling her brows. "We're going to outdo ourselves," then she stood up and did a little turn. Arnold blinked. Brenda acting girlish? She went on to the doorway walking as if she were an exquisite model "We need to look smart… -_beautiful_. All the Princes of the Reign will be there."

"Princes of the Reign?" Arnold snorted loudly "This is hardly a reign!" he mocked her.

Brenda seemed annoyed for being taken so abruptly away from her reverie and looked at him with disgust.

"Well, here in Harlem is hardly a reign!" she pointed to the floor of the kitchen with vehemence. "But downtown is something else! It's the _real_ New York! And there, Arnold dear, are some men who could easily be considered Princes!"

Arnold shook his head, laughing. She should go live to downtown if she was so fond of it.

"You should go to live to Downtown if you're so fond of it." Claire vocalized his thoughts. Arnold smiled to her with lovingness. "Maybe you'd even find your Prince Charming in there."

"Oh, girly! I'd do it if I could!" Brenda puffed "But you already know that's my dream. A bunch of girls have done it before, why couldn't I? Really Claire! I swear it. I swear to you that someday I'm gonna meet my better half in there! No matter what!"

* * *

.

Arnold decided to go then, leaving them to have their time. Of course he bit his tongue before saying something he regretted. Something on the line that maybe all Brenda charity projects and fundraisings activities were only a façade to hide her real interest: to find a wealthy husband. Maybe she should drop it all and put all her effort in the task at hand. That way she'd leave Claire alone and they could be what they were before the she came into the picture, when Claire practiced charity only in her free time. Now it was different. Charity took most of her time. It had become a priority in her life.

As he walked up the street he realized his resolutions from the previous day were somewhat ingenuous… rushed... or maybe just plainly stupid. For starters, they didn't contemplate Claire's side. And Claire's side and priorities wasn't as clear to him as they used to be.

At the beginning of their relationship they used to share everything, they used to talk about the future. If it was right that they didn't make long-term plans, at least they both were always optimistic; shared long, nice talks about their jobs, interests, plans and dreams; enjoyed hobbies and outdoor activities together; confessed to each other like how much they loved kids and dreamed of a future living in the suburbs and having a wonderful, full life. Now their talks were reduced to the quick, hollow conversations they had at breakfast table in the morning and sometimes at dinner.

As Arnold kept moving forward he wondered if he was jealous of the diminished attention he was receiving from his girlfriend. It wasn't the first time the question came to his mind. And he always thought that he wasn't. Jealous, he meant. But to be true, he was getting tired of having Brenda always over. He felt as if they almost didn't have time to themselves anymore. It was true that they still go out to the movies or to have dinner or a couple of times per month, but it wasn't the same. Maybe he was actually jealous… or maybe more than jealous he was… he looked to himself in a window mirror as he waited for the green light… he looked into his own green eyes, those green eyes that weren't as admired nowadays as they were in the past. He stood still… then he inhaled deeply to shake off a sudden stupor as he crossed the street and turned right in the opposite corner.

Maybe more than jealous he was unsatisfied. Or more than unsatisfied he was…

He was _what_? Arnold wondered again. When he was alone in the house he didn't miss Claire too much, he could say. He could be at home to watch TV, going to walks, buying groceries. She used to be the same when it was her.

And when they both were over they used to be on their own business each: cooking, cleaning up, reading, surfing the net, watching TV. Then there were moments when they could be a couple, to walk together, to go out, to make love…. But those moments used to be less and less frequent every time… or it was only his perception?

It was only his perception that their routine was getting boring? Their routine…? Were they becoming boring? Arnold shook his head. What have changed? He was the same, he was sure… and Claire was also the same, of course. She still enjoyed her job as a preschooler teacher; she still cared a lot about kids, and still dedicated time and effort to help the community center. And he…and he were not.

Arnold exhaled. He was not. They were not.

They have changed. They weren't the same. They didn't share the same ideals. They didn't work upon the same precepts anymore. Their relation was becoming boring. Not even sex was what used to be.

Arnold realized he inwardly blamed Brenda for that, because she was over even so often that sometimes by the time she left he wasn't in the mood anymore. But maybe that wasn't the only one reason. Maybe there was something else.

Maybe…

The blond young man exhaled when realized he had stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, then blinked when saw the spot where exactly he was. It was 116th street again, right in front of Big Bob's Stores. Arnold breathed deeply as he walked on, leaving the showcase window behind. He shook his head, confused. It was right that he used to take different paths through the streets to get to and from work every day, but it wasn't usual to take the same street twice in a row.

When he reached the corner he turned his head to take a last look to the store. Big Bob Beepers were called Big Bob Stores nowadays. That was Mr. Pataki's legacy, something to remember the big boisterous man all along the country even when he wasn't around anymore. The stores didn't sell beepers and cellphones like in the older days, but electronics components, speakers, batteries, cables, headphones, chips, that kind of electronic stuff. It was an electronic store, not a beepers store anymore; and it wasn't owned by the Patakis now but by a multinational corporation.

* * *

.

It wasn't the only thing from old Hillwood that had changed, but it was what made him remember his old town. He left Hillwood after realizing that there wasn't life for him in there anymore. He wanted to make something of his life, he dreamed of success, and Hillwood was a relatively small town. He dreamed of coming to the Big Apple and to be prosperous. Hillwood was in some ways a town in decadence.

Everything had changed; even the people he grew up with weren't the same anymore; everybody had taken separated ways. Of course they all were different; nobody expected from those kids to be the same twenty years later. As they grew up they developed their own interests and ways. Stinky went back to Arkansas to become a farmer; Sid enjoyed so much Big Gino's gang that was now escalating positions in his world of crime. Harold somewhat ended owning a landscaping company and was specialist in create vertical and roof gardens.

His elementary school crush, Lila, had married long ago the son of his father's boss and was a happy housewife nowadays. Regarding the rest of the girls, Arnold knew almost nothing about them. He hadn't seen Nadine or Sheena since those old summers of the college years. The only one he actually still kept in contact was Phoebe, and it was only because she had married his best friend. After years without talking to her, Arnold was happy to realize she was the still the nice, smart, easy going girl from the past.

And it was because of Phoebe that he knew Rhonda Lloyd moved to New York in her young twenties. Arnold had never met her again. Maybe because she moved to Downtown, as Brenda would do if she could afford it, he mocked, and he lived up north. Phoebe and Rhonda remained close friends. After Middle School, when the then young kids started to take separated ways Rhonda, Phoebe and Helga, each one in their own disappointed way, -either because lack of classism, challenge or love-, said 'Hell No' to Hillwood High, the district high school where most of the gang were bound to attend to, and enrolled in a private high school. They weren't seeing around much after that anymore; just here and there; parties that they couldn't avoid. From then on they moved in a different circle than him and the rest of the gang.

.

After developing to their better selves in that fancy school all through four years, the trio left to only Ivy League colleges. Rhonda went to Princeton as she always shouted it from the rooftops; Phoebe went to Brown and Helga to Columbia.

But fate finds always a way to change people plans. Phoebe was the only one who followed her plans to the letter. She became a doctor and was now a radiologist at the main hospital in Seattle. Rhonda ended up changing her majoring from Design to Communication and was now working her way up, eager to become part of Ann Vinteurs' élite team. And Helga… -Arnold took an intake- … Helga was the one whose plans changed in the most drastic way.

The blonde was twenty and was enjoying at the fullest being one of the best students at Columbia when right during Thanksgiving break of her sophomore year Big Bob suffered a heart attack and passed away. Fortunately Helga was in town when this happened and had the opportunity to say good bye to her father, but life was never the same for her.

Arnold remembered having seen her lost when he went to present his condolences. '_You always so gentile, Football Head,' _was her answer when he told her everything will be eventually alright. She hadn't shed a tear; not in public at least, but Phoebe, who was already dating Gerald, knew better and she told him she was devastated.

Helga found herself all of a sudden in charge of her father company, which comprised six Beepers stores in an area that included Seattle, Hillwood, Tacoma and Oregon. She never went back to school.

As far as Arnold knew, if reluctantly, she struggled for a couple of years to keep the company afloat, freeing it of its debts and keeping it leveled despite the distrust of creditors, bankers and clients. She changed its nature from beepers to electronics; seemed to be finally developing a fondness for his father legacy, and even went too far to open a new store in North Dakota when, unexpectedly, she sold everything. Big Bob Stores went to form part of the Mueller Conglomerate and Helga Pataki disappeared from the face of the Earth.

It was until several years later that she was seen again at Gerald and Phoebe's wedding. Helga came up to be at Phoebe's side as her maid of honor and she did it well accompanied by a tanned, handsome man with extremely white teeth and arrogant stance. When Arnold got the chance to talk to her she told him that he didn't have to worry; that she wasn't lost at all, but she lived in Europe now and worked as a chambermaid in one of the most expensive cruisers that roamed the Mediterranean; and that Lucca, the guy who was blinding him with his sparkling smile, was the captain of the ship. Arnold had never guessed something like that about her, but shrugged it off. She looked healthy and happy, and despite to still be oddly fresh in his mind that he used to be the one and only who would ever hold her heart, he supposed she had eventually moved on and was happy now the same way he was.

But then, when the party was over and the gang saw each other in the following days, they realized Helga had unashamedly lied to everybody. Lila told them she said to her she had spent three years in prison after participating in a robbery at gunpoint; Patty Smith said she was told by Helga that she was librarian in a small, peaceful town in Texas; and Iggy said she was a starving aspirant to actress who spent her days waiting tables at a seedy bar in Los Angeles. Someone else said she practiced extreme biking.

He should know it wouldn't be that easy.

When Arnold went to Phoebe she smiled and mumbled to herself that it was good to see she still had a vivid imagination. For a while the memory of her remained in his head, but then eventually it also was forgotten. Through the course of the years it only once that Gerald mentioned her to him and all what he said was that he shouldn't worry because she was alright.

* * *

Why was he pondering all this right now? Precisely now? Precisely her? Turning down the street of his working office he wondered if the fact of seeing her former store brought these memories to his mind. 116th wasn't one of the streets he used the most, but he'd used it nonetheless, and it never brought memories of her to his mind before. Specific memories of her willowy body; memories of her long soft blonde hair.

Maybe thinking about love was the trigger. About what love was actually and about what he thought love was back then. About the confession of her feelings for him the last day shared at school. Their last class; eighth grade…

He told her he felt honored but he didn't feel the same way. She said she was okay with that; she only wanted him to know it. Then they shared the summer days in company of the rest of the gang. Later, at fall, when school started she didn't show up, nor Rhonda, nor Phoebe. They started a new life in a new school and with new friends. Their absence was evident. The girls missed Rhonda; Gerald missed Phoebe. Nobody seemed to be missing Helga, to say the truth, but maybe she was the most missed. By him, at least. He arrived to the office where some people were in the waiting room already and it wasn't nine o'clock yet. He went to his private and closed the door.

But in reality he didn't realize back then he missed her; he didn't realize for years. He realized now, every now and then. When he thought of love and there was nothing in real life to compare the kind of love her words promised; the kind of love that she promised; the kind of love that the blue of her eyes, bluer that the sky, promised.

. . .

* * *

**I don't own Hey Arnold!**

**I don't own Seinfeld, Kramer or any other TM mentioned here.**

**I own the plot and the OC (all of them).**

**Sorry for the long waiting. It has been a really busy month, work and health problems included. I assure you next chapter will be here next week. It'd be short and it's half done.**

**Thanks for being here. Double thanks to you who make me know their presence by leaving reviews or following/favoring the story; especially to Nep2uune, PresleyRox, MorTay3 and Babyjokerkc48. I appreciate every one of your words. **

**Have a nice weekend. **

**August 1****st****, 2014.**


	4. CV Tips

**Rocket to the Moon**

**Chapter 4**

**CV Tips**

* * *

.

_=Did you get it?=_

Arnold continued trying fonts in the document he was editing. Then he made a pause to click the blue rectangle that was blinking in the corner of his laptop's screen.

=Almost= he wrote and sent.

_=Remember, put in only there the most important stuff. There will be time in the interview to tell more=_

"Uh huh…"

_=And don't go using 8 size font to fit more words, bro.=_

=I am not= he typed and sent

_=Also remember using PDF, no docx=_

"I know…" he mumbled. After thinking it for some seconds he decided to cut off another paragraph. It wasn't that important.

=I think is done= he typed then. "My CV in just one page=

He leaned back in the chair and exhaled.

= I like it. It looks… _modern _=

_=Lemme see=_

"Just a sec" he wrote back, then saved the text and then proceeded to send it through Facebook messenger.

=What do u think?"

Arnold supposed that on the other end Gerald was taking a critic look to the document. Gerald had some experience recruiting people in his work, sellers mainly, and he offered his help to take a look to his resume.

_=It looks good, Arnold=_

=Really?= Arnold smiled satisfied

_=Yep=_

_=I realize you didn't write the time you spent in Bankruptcies=_

=I'm gonna say it only if necessary=

_=Alright = _then he went on as an interviewer

_=The cause of your demission. You need to have an answer ready=_

=I needed a time out to refocus=

_=Why you went to Legal Bureau?=_

=To keep me occupied=

_=What decision did you take? I mean, after your time refocusing?=_

Arnold smiled.

=Whatever they need to hear=

_=That's ma man= _

Arnold smile grew wider.

There was a pause, where Arnold wanted to ask Gerald about his loved ones, but before typing another message arrived.

_=So you're decided to give it another chance to corporative?=_

=Yes, I am.= He wrote with conviction and sent it.

=It really was what I most enjoyed. To tell the truth=

_=Right.=_

_=Have you renounced to=_

=I submitted my resignation last Friday=

_=charity and... voluntary work and all that shit?=_

Arnold read Gerald's real meaning and bit his lip. After thinking for a whole minute he wrote back.

=Let's say I'll leave it aside=

=For a while= he went on

=Or rather, I do not plan to focus on that for now=

=Not my main interest, I mean=

=I know well enough myself to know that I=

=Am never going to forget about it,=

=It's just that I want to feel good again. To be productive=

=Then I'll see=

_=Right=_

_=I know man=_

_=And you don't have to get all serious on me. I love you man, I am your homie=_

_=You know that=_

Arnold breathed deeply again.

=I know=

There was a pause on Gerald side, Arnold took his time to see the document again and print a couple of copies. He knew he should change some skills and experience in regard of the kind of company or the job post he were applying for. He felt excited and didn't know why. Maybe because he knew a change was a recommence; a fresh start; and being deep down the optimistic he still was he knew it was an opportunity; almost like a new life.

_=You're ready for the big party, man?=_

Arnold clicked the blinking cursor again.

=Yep=

_=What are you wearing for the Occasion?=_

=A black suit=

_=A tuxedo, right?=_

Arnold rolled his eyes

=Yes, a tuxedo. All black. Black tuxedo with a black satin stripe running down the side of the trousers, black tie and black formal shoes.=

_=White shirt?=_

=Of course it's a white shirt. Brand new =

Arnold grinned

=I learned from the best=

Arnold remembered Gerald wedding then; he almost lost his cool; which made him remember Phoebe. He was about to ask for her again when another message popped up on the screen.

_=That's right!=_

Gerald made a pause

_=What is your girl wearing, BTW?=_

"Mmmm" Arnold closed his eyes to think

_=A blue dress…=_

=Blue is Phoebe's favorite color=

Gerald revealed. Arnold frowned with curiosity... or confusion

_=Sky blue? Navy blue? … =_

=Royal blue, I think= he wrote

=Phoebe's? … =

=Her favorite's shade I mean?=

_=She loves ALL kind of blue, man=_

=Right= Arnold frowned again. What the hell they were talking about girls favorite colors, he wondered.

_=Is she there now?= Gerald asked again_

=No. She's out. She and Brenda went shopping; shoes I think=

* * *

.

"What do you think of these?" Brenda extended her foot to the front, showing Claire a pink shoe.

"I think they don't go with your green dress, Brenda." She bent down to fix the strip of her own shoe "What do you think?" she stood and walked up to the mirror.

"I think they are perfect" Brenda stated with her powerful voice "A lot better than the nude colored you chose before"

"You think so?"

"Of course I do. You're gonna totally rock with those and your blue dress. You're gonna dazzle that little shrimp that's your boyfriend."

"Don't call him like that" Claire smiled seeing her image in the mirror. She really liked the shoes. She had never had silver shoes. She always thought they were for sophisticated, successful woman and she never felt like that. But this pair was beautiful; the strips shone and it was breathtaking. She knew she looked wonderful, so she decided to buy them no matter what.

"I think Arnold is going to be jealous"

"Arnold is not jealous"

"If he's not yet he's going to be jealous then," Brenda said again as she tried a new pair; purple.

Claire shook her head. As least she didn't ask for the silver ones she chose. Claire sat down and looked at his beautiful shoes one more time before taking them off.

"He's not that kind of guy, Brenda, you know him"

"Well," Brenda puffed as she straightened to walk with the new pair. "You're really pretty," she stated. Claire frowned, turning to see her "What if you meet someone else in the Ball?"

"I don't think…"

"Someone that spots you in the crowd and decides he wants to spend the rest of his life with you, huh?"

"Brenda, I think you're getting carried away with all this stuff." Claire puffed "We're going there only to find a sponsor…"

"But what _if ?_" Brenda insisted.

"I don't know. I find highly improbably…"

"No. Nothing is _highly improbably_."

"Brenda… this is not a Disney movie,"

"I know." Brenda sat down again and took off the purple shoes.

"I think you should go for nude… white…?" Claire changed the subject and bit her lip "… maybe red?"

"Red?" Brenda turned to see her.

"Why not? Red is a bold color."

"Red…" Brenda stood and walked to the displays again. Claire followed her without forgetting to take the silver shoes with her.

"So…" Brenda started again as she looked over the variety of shoes on display. "I was asking what about if you find a new guy, huh? I mean, would you leave Arnold if you find another man?"

"I am not looking for another man"

"But what if?"

"Brenda!" Claire exhaled, "I don't think I'd pay attention to another man while I am with Arnold"

"_While_?" she took a red shoe and looked at her but Claire shook her head. It wasn't the formal kind they were looking for. "What does that mean?" Brenda went on "I mean, do you mean Arnold is not the one? Or you're just waiting for him to ask the question?"

"No!" she replied immediately.

"No?" Brenda turned to see her with a smirk in her face.

"No." she repeated, but now with calm "What I meant was … that I don't want to force Arnold to take a decision. I'm still not sure. I love Arnold and he's a great guy…"

"… but?" Brenda had stopped looking the displays and was now concentrated on her.

"There's no but!"

"_There's not but?_" Brenda teased her "Then what did you mean?"

"I don't know, Brenda, is that okay?" she said, getting exasperated.

"Okay, okay, don't get your panties in a bunch" the blonde girl grinned openly "I get you." she turned again

"Maybe we should look in another place" Claire said. She was getting tired of Brenda obsessive questioning about hypothetical situations. She walked to the cashier to make her purchase. On the counter she found a stripped coral dyed pair and she showed them to her friend who fell in love immediately. Claire smiled. The look in Brenda's eyes was priceless.

* * *

.

=_I'm telling you, man!=_

Gerald continued trying to show his point. As if he needed convincement

_=It's a blessing. You should be happy she has a friend who goes to do shopping with her=_

=Tell me about it=

Arnold smirked. Even when he didn't find too unbearable to go shopping with Claire it was nice she had someone else to do the job.

=Does Phoebe have a shopping friend?= he asked now. He knew Gerald was watching a basketball game on the TV. That meant he was home alone?

_=Of course she has. And do you know who is it, don't you? _

It wasn't hard for Arnold to guess. Their daughter of course.

=Minerva=

_=Yep. Minerva.=_

=Isn't her too young?=

_=She's old enough, Arnold. You don't know her. She's a Johansson to the bone. She's can be really calm and quiet, and Phoebe can manage to go shopping with her the whole afternoon without problem=_

=Good to know. Where are they, BTW?=

_=Guess…=_

=Shopping?=

_=Yes. Shopping. Impoverishing her father. Yay!=_

* * *

.

"I think they are lovely" the mother of the six month old baby retreated to see the little pink shoe in the foot of her baby. "Yes, lovely" she asked the helper for the left shoe as she happily thought that with this pair and the other, the blue one, she'd cover the needs for the upcoming months. Minerva might need some sandals for the approaching summer too, but then she decided to wait since she was growing up too fast and left most of her clothes almost new. She could wait to next month before deciding.

"Here you are, ma'am" the seller said, offering the couple.

Phoebe took the shoe and put it on her baby foot with difficulty. Her baby girl was very active. To get her calmly seated was almost an impossible task. She tossed and turned and once done she started to stir to the top of her capabilities.

"Minerva, come on!" Phoebe admonished her softly but firmly at the time. She put the shoe in and called the girl to admire her brand new beautiful shoes. "Look. What do you think? They are pretty, huh?"

Phoebe raised her sight to look at her. The girl was turning around and Phoebe expected her to look at her feet, but right then she couldn't help but let out a deep grunt at the discovery of what kept her daughter so busy with the rack that was besides the line of seats. Then, her daughter extended to her a number that thankfully wasn't her size. A strikingly shocking golden and purple pair of what could be appropriately called 'fuck me pumps'.

"Fuck!"

It was all the petite half Japanese, half Norwegian, half Irish, half American young mother could say. What would her best friend say when she knew her daughter's tastes took after Timberly's. Fuck!

* * *

_= I tell you man, ma girl is not trouble, she's just like her dad =_

* * *

.

**I don't own Hey Arnold!**

**I don't own any other of the TM mentioned here.**

**Thanks for reading and double thanks to my reviewers: AmorFatiAhMi, Nep2uune and Nopejope. I also want to thank you to those who mark this story as follow/ favorite. **

**I don't know you but these Dog Days are getting on me and on most of the people I know. It had been really hard to put this –well, not this but next - chapter together-. Hope next chapter will be here really soon. This chapter –five- will be longer and the rest of the OC will be finally introduced in there. Then the action starts.**

**Hope to see keep you all as readers. Have a nice week.**

**August 17, 2014.**


	5. C-Suite

**Rocket to the Moon**

**Chapter Five  
**

**C-Suite**

* * *

.

It was turning out difficult to calculate multitudes. Considering that there were eighty-four organizations invited and taking two or three invitees per organization, they should be around two hundred people present who came from organizations.

How many enterprises were summoned? He didn't dare to guess. One hundred? Two? How many people each? … How many really _huge_ enterprises would be in downtown? Fifty? Two hundreds? Three? A thousand? …

Arnold exhaled. He had no idea. Maybe if he tried small crowds? … small crowds…. Would be easier this way to estimate how many people attended to this Beneficence Ball taking place at the Ellis Island Hall of a renowned hotel?

* * *

.

If someone is thinking he was getting bored they were wrong. It has been so much fun to enter into the piece and wait for almost an hour for the Master of Ceremonies to take the stand and greet the audience. Then he said what was it all about and explained the mechanics of the event. Claire and Brenda were with Jenna meeting the potential sponsors. Arnold waited behind. So, a while ago his entertainment had seen to go behind the curtains and observe the city below. It was a beautiful sight.

But right now he was touching the wall with his back, like a wallflower, taking a sip of his drink and surveying the surroundings with the intention to find a representative small crowd. It didn't take long to find it, the perfect one, about twenty feet away from him. But before start counting down people he took a pause to look at a pretty girl in a black dress going through the hall; she was really pretty, elegant, about his age. Arnold sighed. One thing was for sure. This place was full with beauties. With some of them looking like models, actresses…. Talking about actresses, he thought he had seen a famous actor before, but he was not sure.

Okay, no more procrastinating, he took an intake, time to start counting the representative small crowd. _Un- deux- trois- quatre- cinq- six- sept-… huit… neuf, dix- onze_… four more and they were fifteen. Fifteen persons formed a small crowd. A quick glimpse to the surrounds made him count about a dozen of small crowds to his right. Almost the same amount in the center and… mmm… a bigger bunch to his left. The left side of the Hall seemed the most popular; the loudest, the most sparkling. In any case, that given, one hundred and eighty at his right plus one hundred and eighty at the center, plus… mmm… two hundred and fifty in the left? That meant…

.

"There you are!" Claire arrived to his side and took a place at his right, looking at the center of the hall the same way he did. He took her hand and squeezed it "Are you getting bored?" she asked him.

"No" he smiled "Quite the opposite! I am having so much fun trying to figure how many people is in here…" he spoke aloud to be heard through the noise of the multitude.

"Around six and seven hundred" Claire exclaimed with a laugh.

"Really?" Arnold turned to her "How do you know? Jenna?"

"Nope" she clicked her tongue "I counted," she turned to him then "I guess we have similar ways to entertain ourselves."

"Are you getting bored?" Arnold asked her then.

"Nope. In fact, we've had quite a time" she smiled brightly "We met already two possible sponsors and they said they'll contact us within the week. I hope we get something." She made a pause "There's a lady who is giving a thousand dollars to everybody who asks her, you know?" Claire smiled again "It's not permitted but still... Well, all we had to do was say hi and we already have two grand."

"Congratulations!" Arnold said, leaning over and kissing her. "Come, let's dance"

Claire laughed and tried to resist him saying there were just a few couples dancing, but he ignored her and walked to the dance floor.

"Now is when we can dance," he said, placing his hand in her waist and starting dancing the slow, nice melody. "You're not busy now" She finally sighed and followed his lead "How's everything going, by the way, other than those two grand you already have in the bag?" he asked her.

"Well… we have yet to meet three sponsors. We were assigned to only five prospects, like everyone else. Still, there are some 'favorite' associations who try to impose themselves so we need to be watchful…" She explained "Oh and you know what? Mueller and Three Stars Estates are ours. I think this Jenna girl owed Brenda a big one because Mueller is famous for having a soft spot for kids and schools and giving monthly support if you show them you know what you are doing." She said excitedly "And they said Three Stars' bag is twenty thousands."

"Sounds great" Arnold exclaimed feeling happy for her "What about the other one?"

"It's one of those new technologic firms. They do charity on their own" she wrinkled her lips "so they'd absorb our project. We'd be given credit an all, but it wouldn't be the same."

"I see," Arnold nodded understanding "So what's next?"

"We need to wait to be introduced and then, I don't know, try hard to… capture… their attention… their favor." Arnold noticed her hesitation.

"Everything is gonna be alright. Just look at you! Last week your dream was to get two dozen of glasses for those kids and now you're here. You never dreamed to have an opportunity like this."

"Well…" she exhaled.

"Everything will turn fine, you'll see."

"You really think so?"

"Of course I do."

They continued dancing and when the song ended he asked.

"You still happy we came?"

Claire took a deep, vacillating intake and looked at him to the eye.

"Yes, I do. I feel optimistic. I guess if we don't…" she stopped suddenly, but then she added more effusively "You know? I just saw Al Di Napoli, the actor! He was just there! He even greeted us! Where else I can see Al Di Napoli this close and even say hi to him, huh?" she said bouncing slightly.

"Was it him?" he asked "I thought I saw him, but I was not sure,"

"Yep, it was him! Oh, and Brenda says she also saw Barbra," she shrugged.

"Well, I saw this bloke from The Morning News and a guy that looked like Anton Ego" Arnold laughed.

"Anton Ego?" she asked spiritedly "If cartoon characters also count, then I have to say I saw a Cruella."

"My God!" Arnold replied "Well, if we get nothing tonight at least we always can say we had a good time, meeting the rich and famous, huh?"

"And that we attended to the Ball of the Year." she agreed.

"The Ball of the Year, that's right!" he repeated as he made her swirl again.

* * *

.

They continued dancing for a while, observing and commenting the surroundings. They talked about expectations; real, concrete, expectations. They had already talked about that. They didn't want to be too optimistic to think all their dreams became true, but they wanted to get support to help at least the district schools. That was the point in coming, after all, but still they knew it wouldn't be a piece of cake.

They talked about the invitees. About the diverse kind of people and couples around. There were a lot of men and women who looked important and powerful. There were old and young couples equally. And there were dissimilar couples too: old men accompanied by young women; old ladies accompanied by young men; and couples formed by persons of the same sex. Claire told him that when she commented this to Jenna, the older girl said she didn't judge. She considered love was fickle and everybody has the right to find love their way. Her philosophy? Whatever works.

Finally they also changed impressions about the rest of the organizations present. They looked at them with respect. They valued their existence because these organizations gave help, value to the society. They do a decorous job. That's why they couldn't believe there were some people who looked like real beggars, not by their looks but by their acting. They have this desperate, anxious sight in their eyes that make them look greedy; they looked to the rest of them teams as if they were rivals.

"My God!" Claire exclaimed when she told him that a lady almost pushed her earlier "I mean, what's her problem? Aren't we on the same team? If one of us got a sponsor, the whole community gets benefits!"

"Don't ask me!" Arnold puffed "I am as surprised as you" he turned to her after seeing right then another couple looking at them with disdain "I don't know…" he dropped his voice "I wonder if they are just jealous because I am dancing with the most beautiful girl in the party"

"Ha!" Claire scoffed but smiled with pride; satisfied that the hours spent in her grooming had paid off. She was wearing a strapless blue dress that fell to her ankles. She looked elegant and discreet, and Arnold was proud of her, mainly when you could see around lots of women wearing dresses that he considered non-appropriate for a Fundraising Ball; and he was not talking precisely about people from associations but about affluent invitees. "Do you like it?" she asked pointing her dress.

"You look beautiful tonight" he said kissing her temple.

"Only tonight?"

"You are beautiful. Always. Period."

"But this place is full with beautiful girls. For starters, Brenda also looks beautiful tonight"

"Come on! Who is she trying to fool?" Arnold scoffed "She doesn't even look like her usual self!"

"Hey! She's pretty!"

"Mmmm…" Arnold vacillated "She looks unnatural. Men like natural girls"

"Yeah, Right!" now she let out a loud laugh "Not all men! I just saw a lady who's an eyesore, but the man at her side looked so proud."

Arnold hummed "Money?"

She ignored him and went on.

"Also saw others who resembled a sample book of plastic surgeries. All of them were very well accompanied."

"Like I said. Money"

"Well, who cares? After all, what I was actually telling you that there are a lot of gorgeous girls in here."

"Well…" Arnold cleared his throat, knowing some things couldn't be denied, but also knowing he couldn't say it aloud if he didn't want problems.

"For instance, there's a Jessica Rabbit's clone with dark hair on the other side of the Hall."

"I know. I saw her." Arnold blurted out before he could stop himself.

"You saw her?!" Claire arched a brow

"How couldn't I?" he stuttered "Her dress… _sparkles._"

"Her dress sparkles?!" she looked at him snappy. Arnold rolled his eyes. Women!

"Hey! What did you want me doing? Turning away?"

"What color her dress was?" She asked, persistent. Arnold grumbled. Jealousy? Really?

"I don't know… Blue?" he frowned feigning nonchalance. Luckily he was able to stop himself before blurting out 'Red'.

"Mhmm," Claire turned down half convinced but then smiled and kissed the tip of his nose "I only wanted to know if you only saw her,_ OR_ if you _SAW_ her. And FYI, her dress was red. I was just bugging you, silly!" she shook her head and grinned.

Arnold hid his smirk surprised that sometimes it was so easy.

"Really?" But when he leaned to peck her lips her mood had changed.

"At least it wasn't pink…" she murmured, scathing "You would never forget it".

"Pink…?" He frowned, confused "Why?"

"Why? Really?! Now it results that you're unaware!" she scoffed, but then laughed trying to hide the onset of a fit. "Well, let me point it out for you. I mean all this odd _romance_ you have with pink."

"Romance?" He asked. Claire stopped dancing and walked away. Arnold followed her and once out of the dancing floor he took her arm and asked "What do you mean with 'romance'?"

"Come on Arnold! You love pink! You're always spotting pink everywhere you go… buying pink stuff." She started counting with her fingers "Our curtains and bedspreads are pink. Your office equipment is basically pink. The trashcan is pink…"

Arnold was surprised to seeing her angry so quickly.

"But you bought them all!"

"Come on! Don't start with I bought them all!"

"But you did!"

"Well… if I did, then I did it for you! Because you said you liked them."

"But you…" Arnold stopped himself. "How could I buy pink if I don't like it?"

"Look, I don't care!"

Arnold was about to retort when changed his mind.

"Look, I don't know what are you talking about, but I refuse to pick up a fight right here"

"Right!_ 'You don't know what I am talking about?'_" she repeated scornfully, but despite the sting of her words it was obvious she was also making an effort to get calm.

"Claire…"

"Whatever… Just don't say I didn't warn you when you see it. Pink I mean, it's all over there." She pointed to the left side of the Ballroom.

* * *

.

Arnold was left alone once again. Alright, they have arranged before that he was going to be called when they needed him and it had worked just fine for him so far. He wanted this way, in fact. But having been left alone a cause of an unexpected fight was unfair. Okay, he understood that maybe Claire was too stressed but he wasn't going to pay for it.

Deciding Claire's mood wasn't going to spoil his evening, he took a drink a waiter offered and then walked on, to the left, got mixed, smiled to some girls but mainly looked through the sea people. There were ladies and gentleman everywhere. Girls wearing all spectrum of colors, including pink. What was the big deal with pink, anyway, he wondered. Why he had to admit something that wasn't even his thing, he knew it; he knew himself.

Only God know what kind of bug had bitten Claire so she'd started this suddenly to talk about pink and nonsense; so out of nowhere. He scoffed. Seeing that he had reached the end of the hall he was about to turn around when he saw it. Pink. In the last small crowd. That wasn't that small in fact. Pink. All his rational thoughts abandoned him. He craned his neck to keep seeing the image that was straight ahead.

Against his better judgment, he walked to her. Almost couldn't see her through the people. But he had the impression that he knew her; that he'd seen her before. Tall, blonde… she was giving him her back, talking to the people who surrounded her and they all laughed in an uproar. After the laughs subsided, she went on talking. Long bare arms outstretched as she seemed to be acting. Her dress gave her a fairy-tale-ish air. She was a surreal vision with a skirt that seemed made of feathers. Her hair reached just beyond the shoulders and _that_ smile…

Olga Pataki? Was Olga Pataki the girl in pink?

* * *

.

Arnold shook his head, Claire was right. He made sudden halt, causing somebody to crash against his side. Arnold apologized and turned around, not before turning his eyes to see the girl one more time.

So Claire wasn't that wrong after all. The hot pink dress had called strongly his attention; seemed that his girlfriend knew him better than himself. Arnold took a deep breath. As far as he remembered Olga Pataki was always beauty: tall, blonde, perky, pretty. He was surprised he spotted her so fast in a crowd when it has been years since last time he saw her. She seemed altered, but he was sure as hell it was her.

Suddenly he regretted having turned back. He felt the impulse to go back and look for her. Not only try seeing her again, but look for her, talk to her; ask her about her life; about her family. She used to be an amiable girl; always so good-humored and open to conversation. He hoped she were still the same; that despite the actual company she was still the lovely girl he knew. Arnold wondered about Helga then. Helga used to be quite opposite to her sister. Helga was the antisocial type where Olga was always the embodiment of popularity. Would Olga know what her sister was up to? What's been of her life? He didn't know why but when he thought of her he used to think she was actually working in a ship; spending the nights seeing the moon reflecting on the serene surface of the emerald waters of the sea; a cocktail in her hand, a handsome, tanned man at her side.

Arnold shook his head again. What the hell he was thinking?! It was Olga who he expected to talk tonight. A reminiscence of his past, of his town, period. He puffed. When the night started he never thought his mind would take a trip to the past when he wanted so dearly to think about future, about his new job. He wanted to feel free already. He did feel optimist; had a new objective in his life. He had accepted it wouldn't be a perfect job, but he was up to try and enjoy the opportunity; to make the best of it. He really felt as if he had too much to give, just needed something moderately likeable to give it out happily.

* * *

.

Minutes later Arnold finished the drink deciding he was going to do what he always did. Enjoy the event; help Claire if necessary, and met Olga only if the occasion presented itself. He wouldn't force things. He observed a pretty girl who was also observing him. He indulged with a smile, but turned around when saw the girl smiling back with coquetry. He wasn't here to make a conquest; it wasn't his style; had never been. Consequently he advanced to the other side of the ballroom to put distance in between. The explosion of laugher reached him. It came from Olga's group who seemed to be having the time of their lives together. The rest of the people looked their way too. They were one of the biggest groups he had seen tonight. Looking through the people Arnold realized Olga was the one making the joke again. She was still giving him her back. Arnold had forgotten Olga had been an actress once. In fact, she'd actually married a film producer she met when she acted in off-Broadway plays.

Arnold wondered if the distinguished man at her side was her husband in sight that the man's hand slid to her waist once she ended her act. Arnold frowned. The man was obviously older; his hair was silver, and even when Arnold couldn't make out his face, it was obvious that despite his casual and refined stance he wasn't young. Throwing one last glance to the girl in pink he finally left the spot.

* * *

.

"Jenna said ten minutes, Arnold. We really want you at our side this time"

"No problem," he said "Where's Claire?"

"She's in the ladies room." Brenda answered "Ten minutes, Arnold. I'll be around. Don't miss out this time, please."

"I won't."

Wondering if Claire was still pissed, Arnold walked to hide behind the curtains again. He met Dark-haired Jessica Rabbit half way and gulped. She was a stunning beauty. He held his breath when her cat eyes stopped on him. One single look from her could make you her slave forever. Arnold sighed deeply. Fortunately her greyish eyes were over him only for a second, saving him from such sentence. She kept going without turning back.

Finally leaving the low murmur of the gathering behind and feeling safe from the indiscreet sights, Arnold leaned his forehead in the cold glass and turned down to see the streets again; his mind went back to his expectations for the future. Expectations that were optimistic and pessimistic at the same time. He had already attended to a couple of job inter…

His train of thoughts got lost when he heard the rustle of someone getting close to his secret, desolated spot. He spun on his axis to see through the linen of the drapes two silhouettes making a halt right in front of him. He held his breath when they started what seemed was a discussion.

"'_She's so fun!'_" it was the harsh, mocking voice of a man. Through the dark curtains Arnold could barely see the dark, neat form of a man in a well cut suit. His movements gave out a barely veiled fury "Really? That's all you have to say?"

"I couldn't help but laugh. Excuse me if I'm human!" despite her cool demeanor, Arnold realized the girl was upset. When he looked carefully trying to figure out her form he couldn't help but blink twice. Her dress glowed.

"Human?" he scoffed. Then took an intake, as if forcing himself to keep his voice low "Alright, she could be a fucking stand-up clown for all I care! You already knew it! Now it turns out you'd become her biggest fan!"

"What did you want? That I grumbled and complained in front of them all?"

"What did I want?! You said she was no match for you. You said you knew exactly what to do. And the only thing you could come up was this?" he pointed her form up and down contemptuously. "He's a smart man, for God's sake! He'd never fall for this."

"I… I think otherwise. In my experience, all men…" she started but the bloke cut her off.

"Shut up and listen! I've done my part. You could be happy at home, but you wanted to come. You wanted to come with me. And I complied, but asked you only one condition, remember?" The girl nodded cautiously "All I asked for was your help to take dear Ms. Pataki down to the ground. All you had to do was to outshine her and take all Henry and everybody else's attention over you. And you said…. Please, repeat to me what you said" The guy asked with a hiss. Arnold contained his breath. The low voice of the guy seemed even more dangerous because he wasn't yelling. He wondered what kind of business the girl was involved with. And also wondered what Olga Pataki has to do with this.

"I said I'd do it." She said in a whisper.

"No. You said it was 'a piece of cake'. You said it was a _fucking _piece of cake and _I believed you!"_

"Look, I think…" her voice trembled

"Who the hell cares what you think?!" he cut her off again but the girl went on bravely.

"I think you should calm down because…" He looked at her with blunt disgust, daring her to go on "… because…" she breathed "… because, what is the point? I mean, everyone is going to realize what your…"

He scoffed.

"Everyone is going to realize what? My intentions? My feelings for her?" he snorted again and took her by the chin speaking in soft, low voice "Honey… everybody already knows it. Everybody already knows I want her out of my _fucking_ game." He let go of her "And you, dear, were going to be my ally but you've disappointed me and I have to let you go."

"Dick…"

"Go home"

"I still can try…"

"What part of go home you can't get?" he turned around.

"Al... Alright. I'll wait for you at home"

"At home?" he turned back "No, no, no. Not my home. I've plans tonight and you're not in there."

"What?"

"What you heard. Just go, Eva."

"Are you breaking up with me?" he looked at her again with a scornful expression.

"Breaking up?"

"You know I could be with anyone else tonight? Any man would kill to be with me! I chose you."

"Then you should have chosen better"

She threw herself on him. The tall man took her off of him easily.

"Put yourself together, for God's sake!"

"You're a dick!"

He chuckled.

"That's my name. I thought you already knew it." He brushed his jacket and shook his shoulders. "Get lost." And with that he went off.

* * *

.

"Hey there! You ready?" Jenna reached them and urged them to move "Time to meet the Muellers." And before Arnold knew they were standing before two men who seemed to be familiar with Jenna. She greeted them and thanked their attendance on the name of the City; then introduced Arnold, Brenda and Claire as an organization that helped children and education. Arnold had to admit that there was a lot of professional work behind the girl easygoing and social bearing.

When he turned to the men, Arnold realized one of them was the man who he'd seen accompanied by Olga Pataki. Arnold looked discreetly around for the girl but she wasn't there; it was only a second man who was listening to Jenna. Arnold shook the hand of the younger man first. David McMahon was a man in his forties who was looking at them with kindness; the same approach he'd seen in most of the presents. Then Arnold turned to who was being introduced as Henry Mueller. Arnold shook his hand with firmness and gave him a cordial smile. So finally there was a face to put to the name. This was the powerful Henry Mueller, Chairman and CEO of Mueller enterprises. Mr. Mueller's smile was kind; and once Jenna left he looked at them with politeness and attention.

So it was their turn; finally their opportunity to get a real, strong sponsor. Arnold turned to the girls but never expected what he found. He couldn't believe his eyes. This wasn't happening. Brenda was speechless; looking at the silver haired man in front of her in awe. Henry Mueller casted her a curious glance and turned his attention to Claire. Claire wasn't wordless, but it was obvious that the condition of her friend was affecting her. Arnold decided to help then. He interrupted Claire when she was repeating the same phrase for third time.

"We are conscious of our narrow circumstances. We know our reach is still small…" Arnold made a pause when both men, Mr. Mueller and Mr. McMahon, turned their attention to him. "We know our actions aren't going to make the big change in the world, but we are happy with the lives we're changing. Every single life we touch is important. Every single life counts and we know that to that kid, that girl or teenager is important; their lives changed and that's worth it. We help to make the difference. That's why we chose to help students. They are still young and still have an opportunity."

Arnold turned to see Claire, who seemed had overtaken her nervousness and looked more assertive when she resumed his discourse. Brenda was a lost cause. She still looked with adoration to the men, the sort of prince charming who were in front of them. Arnold realized they both threw curious looks at her every now and then, as if wondering what the hell was wrong with her.

The blond boy helped Claire to speak about their experience when he saw Dark-haired Jessica Rabbit aka Eva getting close, she stopped by Henry's side and took his arm with familiarity. It seemed to Arnold that the girl had decided to please Dick. The man with silver hair looked uncomfortable but said nothing. Henry was paying them attention and asked them a couple of questions. When doing this he touched slightly Arnold's shoulder, which forced Eva to let go. To Arnold it was awkward to admit they have little experience but Claire let clear they had all the determination to get their goals and make it right.

A couple of minutes passed while they ended their discourse, hoping for the best when Mr. McMahon spoke. He was saying he admired their efforts and understood their situation when Arnold attention went astray. He heard voices getting close. By the corner of his eye he saw two girls joining the group. A girl with brown hair and smart eyes who stood in front of him, forcing Eva to move closer. The other person was dressed in pink and stood a little beyond, by Henry's right. Arnold realized he was getting nervous and didn't like it. He didn't want to become another Brenda.

_"Why you took so long?"_

McMahon discourse about that they were not taking a decision in the spot lost importance when he heard Mr. Mueller whisper. It was followed by a sultry giggle and a husky reply. Arnold mouth went dry.

_"So you miss me,"_ a purr followed the answer. Henry replied something Arnold didn't understood and she laughed again. But then she added in a normal but still low voice "Just kidding. Actually I found Ron-Ron in the ladies. Do you know that people from Vogue are taking shots and interviews over there? Gosh, talk about weird! Next thing we'll hear…"

"You mean Vogue as in the Magazine?" Eva asked abruptly, interrupting momentarily David McMahon speech and moving from her spot. Arnold took the opportunity to take a look to the girl in pink but she was being blocked by Eva. Even there, he could say his suppositions were correct; she was Olga Pataki. Arnold didn't know why the mere sight of her made his knees turn into jelly. Right then he noticed Henry's eyes on him and wondered if his eagerness to talk to the girl in pink was that obvious. He quickly turned to David at the time that the man started to talk again. The man in charge of the Social Assistance Department was taking a business card from Claire and was apologizing because he'd run out of his own cards. He'd assured them he'd call within the next week when the blonde girl spoke mocking the man with dark hair.

"I can't believe you ran out of your cards again, Dave. What a shame!" she feigned disappointment, and took a step forward to offer a few blank cards to him. Then she added "Do you need a pen too?"

She and the girl with brown hair interchanged derisive smiles.

"Your famous purple pen? No, I have my own." Dave let out a laugh, admittig he'd just been exposed, then proceeded to write what Arnold supposed was his phone number on it. "But thank you so much for the offering, Helga; you always so thoughtful."

'_Helga?' _Arnold turned so fast that his neck complained. His heart stopped. There she was. Helga Pataki stood in front of him with the very well-known smirk adorning her pink lips. He didn't realize when Mr. McMahon extended to Claire the card, or when they started to thank them or saying goodbyes. He didn't notice Claire's warning glance either. But what he did actually notice was Henry's hand resting on the small of her back, and that Eva wasn't there anymore. He also realized he didn't heard the first time Claire called his name because the loud thumps of his own heart were deafening him but it worked for the whole group to turn to see him.

Arnold blinked, before he realized Dave was shaking his hand and thanking him. Henry Mueller dismissed him with another shake and a nod, saying he hoped the best for their team, while the newcomers acknowledged Brenda and Claire. Arnold contained his breathe when he turned to Helga. _For God's sake, it was Helga! This gorgeous woman in front of him was old Helga Pataki!_ He extended his hand to her when suddenly he was surrounded by warmth and a soft fragrance.

"Arnold!" the hug was strong but quick "I can't believe it's you, Arnold Shortman!" then she turned to Henry and threw him a dazzling smile "We went to school together. - _Oh, God - So long ago!_ \- I used to be in love with him when I was a girl!"

* * *

**.**

**Reviews are welcome and they might inspire me to update faster. Special thanks to Nep2uune, a guest and to you all you who read this.**

**I don't own Hey Arnold! I don't own Al Di Napoli, Anton Ego, Cruella, Jessica Rabbit or any other TM. They are here only to color the story. I only own this plot and the OC.**

**See you soon. **

**August 24, 2014.**


	6. Hearsays

**Rocket to the Moon**

**Chapter Six**

**Hearsays **

* * *

Hi, before starting - and following PresleyRox's suggestion - I am going to list the OCs of this story. I know they are several, as I said from the beginning, and with the intention to avoid confussions let's put them straight.

There you go: Arnold and Helga of course, are the main characters.

Claire: She's Arnold's girlfriend of the last three years.

Brenda: She's Claire best friend. Arnold doesn't like her too much.

Jenna: She's a Public Relation girl whose job is organizing events for the local goverment and rich people. She's Brenda's friend.

Henry Mueller: Owner of a group of enterprises that have his name and is also Helga's boss.

Dick Mueller: Henry's nephew. He's an important member of his uncle corporation.

Deborah Tilly (Deb): Well, she's a forty years old lady who so far is an attendat to the ball who accompanied Helga and the Muellers. We'll see more from her in due time.

David (Dave)McMahon: He works for Mueller Enterprises. He's the man in charge of the Social Assistance Department. He's NOT Deb's couple. They only went to the Ball together , as friends. In fact, Dave was invited to assist only so both Mr. Muellers didn't have to care about organizations.

Eva: Well, Eva was the girl chosen by Dick to keep him company for the night. (Probably also some nights before) but their thing is already dead. We won't see her again, I hope.

I think that's all so far. I guess there's only two more characters that hasn't been introduced yet. But you'll know about them in due course.

Now we can go on

* * *

**. . .**

"Good morning, sunshine!"

The first awareness of the dawn of a new day was Claire's singsong and the wet contact of her lips. Arnold grumbled to clear his throat, a little uncomfortable because the morning breath, then blinked several times a cause of the light that filtered through the curtains. He felt her moving in the bed until getting her full weight on him.

Arnold finally opened his eyes to see her brown orbs right in front of his. "Did you sleep well?"

She was in a very good mood today. Her eyes sparkled.

"Great…" Arnold cleared his throat again; then gave a quick peck on her lips and she giggled, getting up. He drew out his arm to reach her hand "I slept like a log. What about you?"

"Terrific!" she came back again and leaned over him. "Wow, Tiger! Last night you were awesome!"

"Me?" Memories of last night came to his mind. He pulled her closer "I thought it was you" she giggled again and came to give him a passionate kiss.

"Want some eggs?" she asked when finally let go.

"Dunno. What time is it?"

"Seven… something. You still have time. But hurry up! Don't wanna be late your last day at job, right?" She straightened and left the room. "Bacon, eggs and coffee will be ready in fifteen! Don't make us wait!" she shouted from the kitchen. Arnold threw the blankets aside and hurried to the bathroom.

* * *

. . .

When he got under the water, full recollections of last night filled his mind. He opened his eyes under the shower. God! It was wild! They had made love like animals. He'd blush if his cheeks weren't already red from the hot water. Claire and he had never been this passionate; not even in the early stages of their relationship. Last night they didn't seem to be themselves.

Arnold hummed as he outstretched his muscles under the shower, enjoying the sensation of the water falling on his skin. He exhaled. He never thought the night of the Ball would end like that. In fact, he'd thought that back at home he'd deal with a very angry and jealous Claire given all what happened earlier, and mainly after Helga's blatant declaration. But to his surprise the last minutes they spent with the Muellers became a frenzy turn of events that ended giving it an entirely different outcome.

* * *

. . .

He remembered his head was still a muddle by the surprise to meet Helga so unexpectedly; that she was in front of him laughing openly as she talked to her friends and replied to a mocking commentary about she being once a mushy girl coming from Dave -seemed that annoying each other was an usual conduct between those two- when suddenly an old Dino Spumoni tune started to play and Henry took her away to the dancing floor. Helga had barely time to wave a quick goodbye before following him; that big smile never leaving her lips. Arnold kept his sight on them as they started of sway to the rhythm of the music. He didn't know how to feel. He was still surprised he'd just seen Helga Pataki of all people, and was barely realizing he hadn't had the opportunity to say any more than 'Hi Helga' to her.

"Oh, God! _Really?!"_ Right then was when Claire's excited voice called his attention. "What about next Friday?"

"Next Friday? Are you sure?" Dave had raised his brows, surprised. "Look that I mean real work. We want to see more than mere plans. We need to see reach, costs, human resources involved, how many people you plan to reach in the short range, all on that budget. Take all the time your need to prepare everything." He had ended.

"There's no need." But Claire's thrill was resistant "We have almost everything ready. All we have to do is, let's say, update our info and adapt the numbers to the new budget; then take decisions about what is left in and what is out. I think I'll be ready to next Friday."

"Are you sure?"

Arnold blinked twice. What had just happened? Hadn't just Dave said they won't take a decision in here? What else did he miss?

He realized Brenda was now at his side, watching with the same confusion Claire and Dave's interchange, and, also as same as him, throwing glances to the couple that carefreely showed off their skills on the dancing floor.

Arnold turned back to his girlfriend whose spirit had risen in the last few minutes. Then he took a step ahead and noticed the dark haired girl that had arrived with Helga earlier, she was still there. Now that he got to see her closely he realized she was older than he first thought. She should be in her late thirties, or maybe even reaching her forties. She gave him a smile, and seemed that was about to talk when someone else called her attention and made her turn around.

A tall man who looked like the bad guy stepping out of the middle of a James Bond's movie was approaching them and stopped by her side.

"Where's everybody?" he asked.

Arnold recognized immediately that voice. He observed the tough looking guy standing almost in front of him. Discourteous, he didn't even look their way; all his attention was set on her. The woman shrugged casually and looked around.

"I guess everybody went to take care of their own business," then she turned to see him and added "Henry and Helga are in the dancing floor."

The guy raised his sight and threw a nasty look to the dissimilar couple.

"Hope he doesn't end with a heart attack," he sneered; then took a glance at Arnold and the girls without interest.

"Don't be like that!" his companion moaned. "Let them have a good time. They deserve it; after the week they just had."

"_Hey!"_ he protested "I was also there!"

"Yeah, yeah, you were also there, so what?" she waved her hand "We all know you are not used to relax and enjoy yourself."

"Relax?" He scoffed "How? Making a fool of myself like Uncle Henry?"

The dark haired girl shook her head and exhaled tiredly.

"Dick… Dick…. Not everything that happens in this world has to do with you."

The guy exhaled and took a look to his watch. "Whatever," he then turned around.

"Looking for your girl?" the girl asked, hiding a smile. "She went to the restrooms to check her … huh… _makeup_, I think."

"Is she still around?" he raised his brows.

"Why wouldn't she?" she asked back with interest.

"I thought she had a headache" he shrugged nonchalantly. Arnold frowned.

"Awww!" the girl didn't hide her smile this occasion "Bad luck again?"

Dick drew a crooked smile. "You wish!" he then laughed with freshly improved mood "What about you, Deb?" he looked around and shrugged again "Let's make some fool of ourselves. Dave, can I borrow your girl?"

The girl called Deb seemed surprised, while Dave turned to look up at him.

"As long as I can borrow yours," the man responded.

"She's a free agent," He replied as he led Deb to the dance floor "You might give it a try before someone else beats you."

Dave smirked as he observed them go, and then turned resolutely to Claire to finally set an appointment. Next Friday. Three p.m.

Arnold supposed Claire didn't know what all that was about, but she was overjoyed.

* * *

. . .

Arnold left the shower and put on a tee and some shorts and entered to the delicious smelling kitchen. As promised, coffee, eggs and bacon were waiting for him. He hadn't realized he was hungry, but then again, it wasn't surprise after the night they just had. Claire took a seat at his side and starting to tell him the plans for the day as she also ate from her plate. She had the day off; she had asked it in advance, which turned out to be a wise decision.

"There is something I didn't understand," Arnold interrupted her when she was still merrily speaking "Did Dave actually promise his help?" he paused "Or he only said 'maybe'?"

"Well…" Claire paused "He said they'd help; as a fact. He even let clear that we needed to work hard."

"Alright…" Arnold nodded as he swallowed a mouthful, but then asked again with a frown. "But why?" he left the fork aside and turned to her "Why he changed his mind when he said they wouldn't give an answer right away?"

"I don't know, Arnold" she also left her fork aside "You were there too."

"But everything happened in a blur. I didn't see anything!"

"Of course you didn't see anything. How could you?!" she said with strained voice, but composed herself almost immediately "You were gawking so unashamedly at your ex-girl_friend_ that I'm surprised Henry Mueller didn't punch you in the mouth!"

"That's not…" Arnold refrained himself, then possessing himself in patience and with the intention to stop dead her suspicions he added. "… true. And she was never my girlfriend. We stopped seeing each other when we were fourteen for God's sake!"

"I am kidding, okay?" she told him sternly "I am only telling you this because, as same as her friends, Brenda is not going to let you live this down." Claire smirked. Arnold was about to tell her it wasn't funny when she suddenly exclaimed. "Oh, my God! You said fourteen?" Claire looked at him with incredulity "No kidding! Now I understand why you didn't seem to recognize her!"

Arnold exhaled, happy that she wasn't taking it by the wrong side, and surprised, on the other side, that she had realized he hadn't recognized Helga Pataki sooner.

"No, I…" he paused "well… actually I saw her years ago, at Phoebe and Gerald's wedding, remember? But I talked to her just a few minutes." He explained as he shrugged his shoulders; and then tapped his own nose with his pointed finger "She has a nose job or something. She looks very different."

"Really? She wasn't this pretty back then?"

"No," Arnold shook his head, "She was this awkward, lanky girl, you know? Kinda tomboyish..."

Claire looked ahead, as if thinking. Then asked.

"Do you think they are together?" she vacillated. "I mean she and Henry. He is too old for her. He could be her father."

Arnold shrugged. He had no idea.

"She had no ring at least."

"No?" Claire shook her head. Arnold added then "I don't know but I guess age has nothing to do with this. Just ask Brenda. I am sure she'd date Henry, no buts about it."

"Hey!" Claire scoffed "Not only Brenda. Most girls would date him."

"You too?"

"Well…" her sexy lips pulled a weird smile. "He might be handsome, but is too old for my taste." She took a sip of her coffee "But why in the world I would go out with him when I am with you; the handsomest guy around." She touched his nose with her fork and smiled.

"I don't know…. He's rich?" Arnold grinned, leaning to her.

Claire rolled her eyes and continued eating.

"Do you mean she's with him only because he's rich?" she asked after a while "Or… are you're also supposing that… that she's a… call girl or something?" she hinted with carefulness.

Arnold would like to respond '_Of course she's not'_ right away. But he had to admit he didn't know a thing about Helga nowadays, and even if he'd admit it only under torture, the idea had already reached his mind. Last night he'd witnessed some weird things that had made him see with open eyes the reality about the high-class people who inhabited the city. But before he could think a proper response to her question there was a knock in the door. Claire went to check as Arnold put his plate in the sink and poured himself another cup of coffee.

"Hey!"

Arnold almost choked seeing Brenda entering to the kitchen still wearing her long gown, and her shoes hanging from her hand. She took a seat and left them at foot of the table. She looked awfully tired, but at least her face was clean from all that excessive makeup from the previous night.

"Hey!" Arnold answered her peculiar greeting. "I was about to ask you about last night but I think the night hasn't ended for you, huh?"

"If only you knew!" Brenda let out a tired scoff "I stayed with Jenna and her friends. Do you know what time that people ended their job?" as usual she didn't wait for their guesses. "Three and a half in the morning! Can you believe it? Three and a half in the morning! Poor guys! Such a job they have! Still, thankfully, it seems that despite the initial disorganization, the Ball ended being a success; they expect to repeat it next year."

"Really?" Claire asked.

"That's great to hear... I guess" Arnold let out.

"A lot of commitments were made last night. And you know what? We weren't the only ones who got a sponsor." Brenda stopped to take a sip of the coffee Claire offered to her and then added. "There were several; I think they said there were about ten. But we were the smallest, and the youngest; how about that?!" She made a triumphal sign and went on "Jenna said she couldn't believe it; she was really happy for us. She also said she had the suspicion that Mueller wasn't going to cooperate; that they went only because they couldn't refuse. Because, you must know, rumor has it that Henry Mueller wants to create his own foundation, but it turned out to be only rumors."

"Well, I am happy they were only rumors in the end." Claire stated as she took her own plate to the sink. "And if we want to see that support we need to start to work right away!"

"Come on!" Brenda complained "Let me have some rest, girl! I just left Jenna's!"

"Alright, alright!" Claire laughed; seemed that not even her best friend complaints were going to spoil her mood. "You can crash in the couch while I make some calls, fix some appointments..."

"Sounds great." Brenda mumbled as she turned to see him "Hope you don't mind, Arnold"

"Not at all. _Mi casa es tu casa, amiga_." He said as he stood to go change. "Besides, I'll be out until late." Tonight he was attending to a goodbye party thrown out by his friends.

"Why did you were until now with Jenna, by the way?" Claire asked her friend.

"Oh, girly!" Brenda cried "There were oh-so many things to talk about. There were some _PEOPLE_ last night at the party_, huh?_! It was the most interesting night I've ever had! Really!"

"Seems that you met some Princes Charming, huh?" Arnold teased her after remembering her reaction to Mr. Mueller; and wondering if she had also reacted that way to some other men.

"You're telling me! Some handsome men down there, huh?! But they are nothing compared with all the drama that lies behind them. If you only know what I just found out! Downtown is On Fire, my friends!"

"Really?" Claire took her seat again and looked eagerly to her friend "Gossip?" she raised her brows "Please tell me you have fresh juicy gossip for me?"

"Fresh _bloody_ gossip, I'd say" Brenda let out a nervous, hysterical laugh. Arnold frowned seeing Claire rubbing her hands and also laughing excitedly. He couldn't believe it

"_Girls!_" he scoffed and walked to the bedroom.

"Not so fast, Arnoldini"! Brenda's words stopped him. She made him remember that old name he'd called himself long ago. "I have some info that might be interesting for you"

"For me?" he turned around.

"Yes, for you." She looked pointedly at him, which made Arnold roll his eyes. "It turns out that we got this opportunity thanks to you; but I guess you already know it, right?" she didn't stop looking hard at him the entire time. "Who'd have told?"

"Me? Why?" he asked bluntly in sight that the girl didn't back off despite he was facing her.

"Because of your ex-girlfriend," she replied flatly.

"Girlfriend… right" he exhaled, turning to Claire who had that small '_I told you'_ smile in her lips.

"Or maybe because Henry's…. Do you know that Helga Pataki -_that's her name-_" Brenda informed to Claire "…has become the biggest danger to the stability of Mueller Enterprises?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Claire asked.

"I am talking about the Muellers…"

"Okay… I follow you…" Claire announced.

"Is this is the gossip you were talking about?" Arnold interrupted her "Because if it is, I think I pass."

"You can't just pass, Arnold" Claire stopped him "Dave expects to see us at Friday. He said the three of us. It includes you."

"What?" he asked.

"What?" Brenda turned to her and then to Arnold. "Did Dave ask specifically for Arnold to be there?"

Claire frowned, then nodded. "Why?" She asked Brenda.

"Why indeed?" Brenda was meditative.

"What does this have to do with anything?" Arnold asked. Brenda was about to ask something else to Claire but Arnold insisted. "Why we have to know about the Muellers… and Helga?"

Brenda looked annoyed for the interruption, but then she just shook her head and started to spoke, nonetheless.

"I…" she paused "_Look that you know how to spoil a perfect gossip, Arnold! Well, I don't know how to start anymore…"_ she puffed " let's see…" then she took her time "you both know that Mueller is this familial company, right? Inherited to Henry from his grandfather who founded it like a hundred years ago, a furniture store or something; then to his father and when it was Henry's turn, he took it to the big leagues and started its international expansion…"

"International expansion that had become very aggressive recently …" Arnold supplemented "that's why he's so well-known…"

"You tell me! That is your field of expertise" Brenda snapped. Arnold ignored her.

"So well… _And then_?" Claire's demanding pout made Brenda smile.

"Why so curious?" Brenda chortled; her defiance disappearing. Arnold shook his head with impatience.

"Maybe she's also interested in Henry Mueller," Arnold shrugged, mocking them both "Beware Brenda!"

"As if Henry Mueller would pay attention to any of us," Brenda scoffed "when Helga Pataki has him wrapped around her finger."

"Really? Has she?" Claire asked

"Well, that's what rumor has it. But the truth it is that nobody knows if they're actually dating, or if they are just taking their master-protégée relation to a very particular _and suspicious_ level. What _ALL_ are, in fact, expectant about, is how their new dynamic will affect the succession in Mueller Enterprises. People are already taking sides."

"What do you mean?" Arnold frowned.

"But Dick Mueller is the natural successor, isn't he?" Claire asked.

"Do you know about Dick?" Arnold frowned. Claire shrugged. "How? When?"

"General knowledge, Arnold; Dick is the second on board. He is Henry's right hand; everybody knows it." she was getting exasperated "Besides he was right there. Didn't you see him?"

"Didn't you see him! How could you?!" Brenda asked, misunderstanding his silence. "The hottest man I've ever seen!"

"For God's sake!" Arnold huffed, then turned to Claire expecting support from her part, but when he saw her hesitating he just couldn't believe his eyes "Hot? Him? Oh, God!"

"I am not saying he's hot!" Claire rasped.

"You don't think he's hot?" Brenda queried.

"I thought you thought Henry was hot!" Arnold interrupted her

"Well, Henry is hot, but nothing compared to Dick"

"We are talking about the same Dick, right? The dude who looks like the villain of an action movie" Arnold shook his head "Girls," he started, suddenly realizing this was the gossip they were talking about and which they enjoyed so much. He simply couldn't get it "…it's been a pleasure to be with you"

"Are you going now?" Claire complained.

"It's getting late, I need to get ready."

"You're gonna lose the end of the story." Brenda murmured.

"_Story_ now?" Arnold chuckled "You said it was a mere gossip."

"Story, gossip, tale… where is the difference" the blonde girl asked.

Arnold shrugged. There was a world of difference but he wasn't going to lose his time anymore.

"It's about Helga," Brenda added and Arnold cursed himself when he stopped dead right when he was reaching the knob of the bedroom's door. "Did you know she worked at Mueller?"

"No," Arnold exhaled and turned around, leaning against the door "I didn't have the slightest idea. I haven't seen or heard from her in years." He lied "Does she?"

"Yeah," Brenda nodded "It seems that she's been in there for a while. She started as Mr. Mueller's personal assistant and then she started to escalate positions until four years ago when there was a reengineering in the company. After that she became the superb Mueller's Chief Financial Officer and Henry's left arm."

"I heard it was Dick,"

Brenda smiled

"Dick, my friend, is Mueller's Chief Operating Officer, and he's also Henry's nephew, his heir, and until very recently he had been pointed as his successor…" she spoke calculatedly, enjoying the attention she was receiving "But that's now up in the air, since this new affair between Henry and Helga was known."

"But Dick is family. Shouldn't he be his first choice, the right thing to do?" Claire frowned

"Helga might be his woman." Brenda shrugged.

"Which is the difference in their positions?" Claire asked Arnold

"Dick is in charge of the operation… I guess he's the chief everywhere; in the last corner of every single company of the conglomerate. But Helga is in charge of the finances. She has another kind of power…" Arnold realized so many things then. If this all was true, Helga Pataki had been working her way up in the corporate world, and she did it so well that she was part now of Mueller C-Suite. He exhaled. No doubt now why she didn't say what she did for a living four years ago. She just couldn't say: '_I am the fucking CFO of Mueller Enterprises, ya bunch of losers!_'

"Do you mean she's not under Dick's orders?"

"No," he shook his head "Functions use to change from place to place, but it should mean that she reports only to the CEO and to the Board, not to the COO…. Dick and she are in the same ranking. If something, Dick might need her approval sometimes."

No doubt why he detested her, Arnold thought.

"Really?"

"See why I said there was some drama going on at Mueller headquarters?" Brenda chirped. "I can't wait to see how this soap opera develops."

Arnold entered the bedroom and closed the door. Still there, he could hear their talking.

"_I can't believe it. That someone like Henry could choose a stranger over his own family."_

Claire started, then her friend went on.

"_Yeah, poor Dick!" _Brenda sighed_ "I __could __so __go there and take him in my arms to comfort him." _

Both girls giggled. Arnold shook his head deciding to shut them out, then he opened the closet to start changing. He observed himself in the full-length mirror. What has he been doing while Helga Pataki was reaching the highest positions in one of the most important companies in NYC? Criticizing the uses and ways of the rich and powerful? Complaining about his job? Helping the poor?

"_That Helga Pataki is a bitch!" _

Seemed that Claire and Brenda had already taken positions, like the rest of people. As he adjusted his tie Arnold wondered which side he would take, given the case. Helga or Dick's?

"_Yes, she is... But you know? According to Jenna, some people said she's really good at her job; and that for the sake of the company she's a better option than Dick."_

"_But it's his company; the company of his blood. Who could be a better option than a Mueller?"_

Brenda muttered an answer. Claire went on. So this was the way how women gossiped, and spread the news, then acted as if they were part of that world, Arnold pondered.

"_Still, you said she's only Henry's left hand. But everybody says Dick is his right hand, don't they?"_

"_Yep" Brenda replied "That's what everybody says… but I'm in possession of something that only their closest know, you know? Another cause of worry to poor Dick."_

Arnold stepped out of the room then. He didn't want to interrupt so he waved goodbye to Claire in his way to the main door. He took his car's keys before leaving.

"Really?" Claire nodded her head in response as Brenda walked to the coffee machine. "And what is it?"

"Henry Mueller is left handed."

Arnold closed the door and walked up to the corner where he used to park his Camry. He took the conductor seat and pulled onto the street with an uncertain mood to face the day; his last day at job. The last day of a part of his life...

The last day of the rest of his life.

. . .

* * *

**I don't own Hey Arnold!**

**I don't own Toyota Camry or any other TM. I do own this story and the OC.**

**Thank you all for reading. A thousand thanks to you all who take the time to review: CarlinJ83, Nep2uune, PresleyRox, a Guest, iHwanniex3 and anona. You guys rock! I am sorry I didn't answered your reviews before but I'll do it tonight, I promise.**

**Hope you also enjoy this installment.**

**See you soon.**

**September 5th, 2014.**


	7. Park Avenue

**Rocket to the Moon**

**Chapter Seven**

**Park Avenue  
**

* * *

.

Arnold hurried through Midtown's streets. He was delayed and his girlfriend, Claire, was surely furious. The appointment was at three o'clock; three oh five was right now, and there were two more blocks to go. Fortunately it was a cold afternoon so he wouldn't worry about looking suffocated and sweaty by the effort of being in a run for the last ten minutes.

He was late because he had attended to a job interview. There was a vacant post in a big enterprise and it'd be a great opportunity but they stood him up. Arnold had chosen it over another position in an insurance company but he didn't feel like working in an insurance company, so no regretting; but his hopes regarding this one had weakened unfortunatelly. He puffed. At least they weren't completely lost. The interview had been postponed to next Monday. But for now he was making a dash with his unused curriculum under his arm as he pushed past New Yorkers and tourists alike as he strode along the 47th; then exhaled heavily when he finally reached Park Avenue. He turned south and made a small pause to admire the sight.

There it was; his destination. The imposing building straddling Park Avenue. He took air again before going on. So this was the place where Helga Pataki had been 'hidden' all this time; the former New York Central Building; one of the most beautiful constructions in the city. Incredibly, it wasnt far from Anderson Johnson Bailey and Partners where he worked for years. They never crossed paths; not even taking in consideration that Park Avenue was one of his favorite walks because his ample street and florid median strip.

Finally walking the last block Arnold reached the next corner and went across 46th Street, hurrying to the entrance without turning to admire the two arcades that engulfed the traffic; or the sculptures and the famous clock at the top of its base. It was no time to admire old buildings. Not even to see twice the elevator lobby with its warm yellow, Jaspé Oriental marble walls. Arnold ran to the first open elevator and pressed 28.

He took his cellphone to check Claire's last messages.

_Meet us at floor 26_

_._

_Seems that Dave's office is in the FL 28. We're going up_

_._

_Arnold, where are you?!_

_._

The latter had been sent a minute ago. Arnold shoved the device into his pocket and looked at the folder in his hands. What to do with it? Maybe he should have disposed it in one of the many trashcans he saw in his way here but he hadn't dared. It was his curriculum after all. He sighed. Realizing there was nothing he could do right now he concentrated in the fast ascending of the elevator.

The doors opened in floor twenty –eight and he got out because of Claire last message. Nonehteless, two minutes later he was using the staircase to go down the two flights of stairs. It seemed that Mueller Enterprises comprehended several floors but their reception/entrance was at 26, according to a nice cleaning lady.

He didn't want to check his watch when he finally pushed past the crystal doors. He stood by the receptionist desk, but in sight that there were several people in the line and no one watching, he entered into the offices and went right to the stairs located at the left.

Mueller Enterprises headquarters weren't that different from any other headquarters he'd seen before. People seemingly working. A bunch of cubicles and desks in the center. Private offices along the walls. Their trademark dark red color was present but only in few details here and there. As Arnold climbed the stairs he could see the coffee room and something that seemed a break room at the bottom. A quick look around made him realize certain blonde wasn't there; but then again, if she was one of the bosses it was only logical to guess that her office was in an upper floor.

He soon reached floor 28 and the first thing he saw was that the environment had changed. In here it was darker and the decorations were more sober, more elegant. He walked looking for David McMahon name labeled in the doors but found nothing. Soon he had rounded the entire area and the only thing he got were curious stares and small frowns. He decided to get out of here and go back to the reception for information. He walked down the aisle and then to the stairs again when a door was opened at the bottom. A woman left the room but entered in a contiguous door immediately. He kept going and was about to reach the staircase when someone called for him. A young man, younger than him, who left the same private was walking up to him; Arnold stopped and turned to see his affected gait and his too flexible hands.

"What are you doing here?" he asked with an delicate shook of his head.

"I…" without knowing exactly what to say he pointed his folder.

"Why reception keeps sending you people up here? God!" he asked to nobody and then made a sign to follow him; Arnold obeyed until he stopped in the middle of the hallway and pressed the button of an intern elevator.

"Look,"

"Recruitment is on floor 26! Who told you could go up?" the guy seemed like he was having a bad day. His frown was deep and seemed to be at the verge of despair.

"In fact, I was looking for Da…"

"Did you already talk to Jean? Filled the application?"

"N… no"

"Then why are you here…?" he puffed out, then took Arnold's folder from his hands with authority and started to read. "Are you a lawyer?" he asked after a minute, looking at him up and down again in a assessing way. "We were calling in lawyers two weeks ago. Why you didn't come then?"

"I didn't know."

"Why are you here now?" he asked again. He had stopped reading the paper and looked at him pointedly. "We haven't made a new call."

"I didn't come looking for a job." He extended his hand to take his CV but the _kid_ didn't let go "I came actually looking for David McMahon."

"Why?" he frowned "Do you know him? He asked you to come?"

The elevator doors opened and they went inside once several persons got out. The young boy pressed floor 26. The elevator have only buttons that went from 26 to 30.

"I met him…" Arnold started "And not; he didn't…"

The young man made a veiled sign to silence him, pointing with his eyes at the woman who was leaned against the rear wall of the elevator. He didn't stop watching her attentively the entire time that took for the elevator to close the doors; which in Arnold's opinion was too long. Arnold looked at the woman who wore a business suit and the dark hair in a bun, and was talking on her phone, ostensibly disgruntled. The woman hung up and raised her eyes directly on his companion, obviously aware of his persistent sight.

"What?" she spat surly "Are you going to ask if we won the case, or do you also want to know if I actually danced with Dick?" . Then turned to the buttons and pressed 26 again. "People in here should do their job instead of reading magazines, gosh!" she let out a wry laugh.

The kid took a second to recompose himself, and then spoke slowly, displaying correction.

"Actually- I was going to ask you if you are still hiring lawyers" he rocked slightly on his feet.

"Of course I am still hiring lawyers; we need lawyers! I came right from your boss's office! But what is the point in complaining if you, people, chose a long pair of legs instead of experience?" she exhaled forcefully next and then looked at them both briefly. "Why?"

Arnold contained his breath. He had already realized she was the woman he saw at the Ball a week ago; she looked very different in a business suit. He had also realized Mueller wasn't a heavenly workplace either; just like every other place.

And finally, he was realizing he was now a fortuitous candidate…

"I have an applicant" He extended Arnold papers to her. "He says he's Dave's friend." Arnold had wanted to take the folder from midair and run away. He hadn't said he was Dave's friend, for starters, and she knew he wasn't. He wasn't looking for a job secondly; well, actually he was, _but not here!_ He'd only came to be by Claire's side! He wasn't even dressed for an interview…. Well, he actually _was_ dressed for an interview. He was wearing a blue business suit. He exhaled.

Maybe this wasn't that bad after all. Maybe he should take it easy. He took air again, and was flattening his tie when the woman raised his sight from the papers to look at him.

"You worked at Anderson for how long?"

"Almost four years," he answered mechanically. Probably this was the moment to let things clear…

"What did you do in there?"

"Well…"

"Predominantly…? What did you do the most?"

"I worked with corporative accounts… the making of the contracts of all kind: buys, merges, cooperation; cessions. Redacting and analyzing thoroughly contractual obligations…"

"Do you happen to know about foreign trade regulations?"

"Yes, I do"

"Policies of foreign countries too? Asian? South American?"

"Yes, I do." Arnold nodded. "Europe too."

"What about market share's?"

"I think I am up to date…"

She nodded and looked at the paper sheet again. Arnold racked his brains. If he knew he was going to be interviewed for a post in Mueller what had he added to his CV? Mueller comprehended dozens of companies. And was buying a lot lately. All kind of companies… all sized…. Local and foreign alike…. They were getting their cash flow because…

"I am also up to date about HR Policies, Employment Legislation and about…"

"I see…" she nodded looking at him in the eye. The elevator had opened at floor 26, but none of them got out. No one was waiting out to climb in, so they remained in place. "Alright, see…" she turned to see the top of the sheet "…Arnold…" she made a pause "I just have one last question:" Arnold took an intake knowing what was coming up "Why you left Anderson? Or maybe I should better say: Why they let you go?"

"I left actually," he stated right away but then paused. He knew that it was right now when he'd get an approval or a rejection. He still believed he needed to be honest; just wasn't sure how honest should he be; how much honesty could be bent. "I felt like I needed… a time-out to focus…. I guess I was working through the whole spectrum of commerce that… I just needed to… to adjust the tune_…" _he stopped. The girl was looking at him hard; a light frown in her forehead. "I felt that it was the right time to make a choice; to become a specialist. If I left more time pass, I think my time would have gone; the opportunity wasted."

"What did they say?" she was still looking at him intently.

"There was no time for that," the blond boy let out a dry smile.

She nodded. She had smart eyes. Arnold had already noticed it. He wondered if she had bought his lie… that wasn't a lie per se. In fact, from the adequate perspective it had been the real story; if only he'd already chosen a …

"What about this 'Legal Bureau'? Are you still in there?"

"No, not anymore. There was going to be only a short period of time. They always knew it." He shrugged "It was something to keep me occupied."

"Yeah. Bills don't stop coming, right?" She nodded again, understanding. Then she threw a last quick glance to the page and handed it over to the boy that Arnold had almost forgotten about. "I am just registering…. You are Helga's … little friend, right?" Arnold nodded. The veiled insinuation in her voice made him feel uncomfortable. But at least she hadn't said '_boyfriend_' like Brenda and Claire before; but Arnold noticed the statement was enough to make their companion give out a little jump. "She told you to come?"

"No, I haven't seen her at all." It felt good to say some easy truth.

"Right. She hasn't been around in a while, actually." She talked to herself; then she frowned "Weren't you bound to see Dave today?"

"Yes, I was." Arnold nodded, feeling he was being too formal, but after all this was turning out to be a job interview.. "In fact, I was on my way to see him when I found…" Arnold turned to the boy.

"Mark…" he introduced himself.

"Why the CV, then?" the woman asked.

"Long story short..." Arnold lips curved in a dry smile "I had an interview earlier but it was cancelled."

"Alright," she got out and slowly walked to the right side of the hallway, where there was another lift. She pressed the only button in there. "When can you start? ... I mean, if you're interested in a post in here. I know it wasn't your plan."

Arnold blinked twice and suppressed any further reaction; her blunt asking stunned him.

"Tomorrow…"

She smiled. The boy at their side snorted.

"Let's say Monday, alright?"

"Alright." Arnold nodded.

"I see you on Monday then. Mark, you know what to do. After you're done send him to Greg, would you?"

"Of course, Mrs. Tilly."

The elevator doors opened and she stepped in. She tilted slightly her head and Arnold saw her going back to her phone before the elevator doors closed.

* * *

.

"So you're Miss Pataki's friend?" the guy asked him once they were alone. Arnold had to admit that he'd be surprised if it wouldn't happen. He was being led to one of the first desks by the left.

He looked around with wide open eyes. He still couldn't believe it. Did he really have a job? At Mueller? The very job Matt and Daphne had been applying weeks ago; the one they wanted to keep quiet and were dying to obtain? And he got it; almost effortless. He was stunned.

As he had thought hundreds of times before, the real problem with finding a good job was the difficulty to get in contact with the right people; the people who had the power of taking decisions. And he had been lucky. It was completely casual to suddenly find himself face to face with who seemed to be the right person in here. To have the opportunity to talk to her… to have impressed her with his curriculum and his experience. Coincidence… Or maybe it was only matter of them in dire need of an extra pair of hands.

"Huh? It's alright if you don't wanna talk. Just don't be rude." the mannered voice took him out of his contemplations.

"Excuse me?"

"I was asking you about Helga Pataki. Are you friends with her?" the boy asked as he placed a formulary in front of him.

"I was… long ago, when we were kids," knowing how communicative workplaces used to be he decided to be cautious. He wasn't going to be the new guy who had a story with one of the bosses. It was better to let things clear from the beginning. "We went to elementary school together…" and made a pause to start filling the application "I hadn't seen her in years"

"I can't imagine the kind of kid she'd have been."

"She was okay…" Arnold smiled "Smart… bossy; the queen of the hallways."

Mark laughed casually.

"You seem to be describing her nowadays…. She's always calling people by other names."

Arnold couldn't help but laugh. He shook his head remembering her personal name for him. Football Head. He hadn't been called Football Head in years.

"Yeah!" he nodded looking at the guy in front of him. "That's the Helga Pataki I remember."

"Seems that she's still the same, then." He paused, starting to go through his papers "I like her, you know? She's nice, funny…. And I am happy that she and Henry are finally together. After all he has been through. He deserves to be happy."

"Are they actually together?" Arnold raised his sight, frowning slightly. A curious expression that he know people used to feel attracted to, and found reliable; an expression he used on his own benefit. A lawyer like him always needed a secret weapon.

The boy shrugged and raised his brows in a classic expression of uncertainty.

"Nobody knows… but they are always together and seem happy. But then again, they were all the time together and also seemed happy before, you know? But now something is altered…." He stopped but then, as if the last thing he wanted was to be misunderstood he added immediately "Though I'm not saying they act as a couple in public, you know? Never say I said something like that because not I or anybody I know had ever seen them acting, you know, all romantic or effusive in public. It's just that it's obvious something has changed." he shrugged "To end with that: the boss seems happy and that's all that matters, isn't it?"

"That's what matters, you're absolutely right." Arnold uttered as he went back to the paper. For some incomprehensible reason his insides cringed once those words left his mouth.

* * *

. . .

When the paperwork was ready, Arnold was sent to Legal Department. He had already been told that the hiring process wasn't this informal and that it'd take more than a day; nevertheless he could come up on Monday for an introductory course and the usual conventions. Then he was sent to see Greg, who seemed to be Deborah Tilly's right hand. Contrary to his experience in this place so far, Greg turned out to be nice. The new hiring seemed fallen from heaven to him. Greg was a man in his forties, looked intelligent and was the first naturally friendly face Arnold had found in Mueller so far. Someone he could call properly a colleague.

* * *

. . .

Of course he hasn't forgotten about Claire. He's sent a message telling her the cause of his delay. Though he never thought that the innocent '_I think I got the job'_ could be utterly misunderstood. Claire almost shouted to him from the open staircase when she saw him in there. Some heads turned to see them but they went mainly ignored, thankfully. Claire and Brenda's jaws went to the floor when he told them why he couldn't leave right now. They were astounded but overjoyed at the same time, and utterly eager to communicate their good news and to hear his. So the duo left The Helmsley Building with a plan in mind: go to pick up dinner, junk food and beers; then go back to their apartment and wait for Arnold's arrival. There was just too much to be shared tonight.

* * *

. . .

"Oh, my God Arnold!" Claire had covered her mouth with her hand; her eyes were the biggest he had ever seen. It was her first reaction to his arrival "I still can't believe you were _hired _by _Mueller_? How in earth this happened? _WHEN_?"

Arnold shrugged and shook his head, making obvious he was as surprised as her. After the initial reaction and effusiveness Brenda was seeing him with a blank expression.

"I still don't know…" he leaned against his seat "I really- really don't have idea. My best guess is that they really need people. Greg told me that they are swamped in work; and it's only getting worst!"

Arnold would like to lie down and think to finally let things sink in; or at least to keep talking about his adventure in the elevator and all his guesses, but the girls had also a bunch of things to tell themselves. It turned out that Dave has been completely serious about his offer and he had provided them with a budget that was going to be revised monthly. To take care of the whole district's needs was their first goal; a dream became true for Claire and Brenda.

But thankfully the conversation kept oscillating between one and the others. They have listened with attention to everything he told; and now it has been a while since they had monopolized the conversation. They were now talking about people he didn't know, about the recent news, or still about the last week Ball given that Vogue had just released a fresh and shiny edition.

"_So good old girl, Ball invitee Deb turned out to be the Manager of the Legal Department at Mueller, huh?"_

Arnold leaned back, a tad lightheaded, and nodded_._ Things were becoming to look blurry.

"_And you said she didn't know who you were when she started interviewing you?"_

He shook his head then. She hasn't recognized him until later; he was certain about that.

"_Do you think Helga asked her to hire you? … Maybe?"_

Helga didn't even know the kind of lawyer he was. Another certainty.

"_Mr. Mueller then?"_

_Brenda interrupted then._

"_Mr. Mueller is not in town right now. Dave told us, remember? He and Dick will be arriving from Singapore tomorrow night." Brenda pointed. _

Arnold would remember the talking next day. Well, parts of it. After the beer was gone Claire went to the kitchen to concoct some 'screwdrivers'.

_"I thought you said margaritas..." Brenda said as she took the glass from Claire. "Talking about margaritas…. I heard Helga is in Brazil, by the way. Getting a tan."_

"A tan?"_ Arnold almost choked. Claire looked at him through narrowed eyes. Brenda let out a nonsensical laugh. _

"_I'd say_ s_he's getting a Brazilian!" _

"_A Brazi…?" he started asking, but when they both cracked loud laughs and made painful faces he turned around. Better don't ask. _

"_It's a waxing, you silly!" Claire laughed at him. Lightheaded came short.  
_

_Brenda hiccupped. _

_"She's over there because she's shop-ping. She's gonna buy a new company. She's the one responsible for Mueller expansion, u-know?"_

"_Aggressive -expansion, remember?" Claire meddled in, giggling. "A-ggre-ssive, Brenda. A-ggre-sive!"_

"_Damn right!" she took a sip again "Aggressssssive expansion then. That's what people say. She's over there to buy a new company and let poor Brazilians without a job. Poor, poor Brazilians! The bitch is over there and they are helpless!"_

"_Go bitch, go away! Let the kids alone!"_

_Arnold leaned back in his chair and forced his eyes to open and his mind to see the scene in front of him; to really take it in. Where Brenda brought all that information from? Why she always seemed to be talking shit about Helga? Was she really that bitch? Did she deserve it? _

_He didn't know. Mark said he liked her; that she was fun.  
_

_It was Friday night and they were having their own party. It was their party; it was okay. They hurt no one. They weren't being noisy; so no neighbor complaining, right? But there was something else._ _ Arnold kind of realized he was being a guest at their private party. Sometimes it was confused. They were a couple and had a close friend. Although sometimes it seemed as if it was a three-party relationship… or that there was a couple and a forever alone friend…. He chose to shut down his mind to avoid wondering who the forever alone friend was. All what he wanted was his bed._

_He left the table without saying good bye and walked to his bedroom. The girls weren't going to miss him after all; they had started talking about oh-so sexy young Mr. Mueller again; their favorite theme of conversation latterly. Henry, Dick and the Bitch. Arnold puffed as he got in the bed and covered with the blankets. He felt too giddy to bother getting under the shower tonight. God! He was so tired!_

* * *

_._

_He had a job_, was one of his last thoughts of the night. He smiled as he turned to his right. _He had a job. At Mueller Enterprises, nothing less!_ It wasn't an ideal job, he knew it, but it was real. At first sight Deb seemed a fair boss; and Greg was okay. Their Legal Department was huge. Arnold counted over twenty desks and feverish activity filled the right side of twenty-ninth floor where they were situated.

As Arnold was falling unconscious he wondered what would be his desk like; his workplace.

_Would it be one at the front or one at the bottom? _

_Amongst the cubicles or in a private? _

_He imagined himself opening one of the dark almost black doors of the private offices in there. And once closing it and turning around he found a girl in there; a girl with blonde hair that reached her mid back. A girl who never stopped smiling. _

"_Why are you here?" he would ask._

"_So you miss me…" was her illogical answer but he wouldn't think. All that he saw was the shining of her lips when she spoke. _

_He walked to her, slowly, fearful she'd disappear. She left the chair she had been standing by and walked to the wooden desk; unhurriedly, never stopping looking at him… never losing her smile. Then she sat down in there, on the corner of the table…_

_As Arnold got close he could hear the rumor of voices, other's people voices; old voices; but he wouldn't listen. He was absorbed in the way her hands smoothed the fabric of her skirt; then started toying with its hem in a seductive way; her lips moved, invitingly. Her new nose, straight and with the tip slightly upturned gave her a softer, cuter expression. God! She was beautiful! When he reached her side she leaned backwards, slowly, until her back touched the solid wood._

_A second later he was all over her. Leaning to kiss the wet pink lips; being embraced by her long legs; surrounded by her dangerous smell…. He kissed her. He took her by her head and kissed her passionately, savouring those soft lips that tasted like candy. But then as fast as it all started she stopped kissing him._

_He retreated to look at her and what he found were her blue eyes, fixed on his, looking at him with dejection. Her long fingers looked pale against the navy blue of his shirt. He turned up again to find her eyes again. A look of hopelessness and a frown were now saddening her features. Then he paid attention to the voices. They were several voices…_

"…_I act like a total loon…"_

"What?"

"… _but I was too shy… too bashful …too fearful of your rejection…" _

"_Sorry - but I don't feel the same way…" _

_He straightened and turned around when he heard his own voice. The room wasn't an elegant office anymore but a poorly lit __old classroom with __worn out furniture and grayish floors. And the girl in front of him was the old gangling Helga; but he found her pretty; she was the most pretty girl he had ever seen; with her big, melancholic eyes, her old nose and her bright lips. Those beautiful lips that were curved in a sad, resigned smile. _

"_I know. I know you don't feel the same way… I just… didn't want to end another year without telling you that I love you… that I've been in love with y…"_

"_Why you took so long?" _

_A different voice rumbled then and Arnold raised his sight to see Henry Mueller standing behind the desk and seeing them both with a devious smirk._

"_So you miss me?" she directed a radiant smile to him and looked gorgeous again; but then turned to Arnold and her smile disappeared. "Sorry Arnold, but I was so young, so stupid… Forget it, please. It's past; it's old. I don't care anymore…"_

"_But I was wrong!" Arnold shouted before he could stop himself. "I am sorry I said I didn't feel the same way…" he got close to her and took her by her shoulders ignoring Henry's reaction "I love you!" he kissed her again and now he could feel her reacting. She responded to his kiss with fervor. "I love you!" he mumbled against her lips._

"You WHAT?"

"I love you."

"Oh Arnold!" Arnold felt somebody's weight on top of him and opened his eyes, and retreated, startled.

Claire's joyful face was in front of his.

"Awww, honey!" she kissed him "You never cease to amaze me! I am so proud of you. And I love you so much too!"

"Claire…" he uttered, half slept, half surprised... and excited, surprisingly excited.

She kissed him again. Arnold didn't hesitate. His body took over. He responded to her kiss with another of the same intensity and made her roll over until he was on top of her.

"Are we alone?"

A glint shone in her brown eyes

"Brenda's in the couch. But don't worry. She's totally wasted. She would never listen…"

….

* * *

**I don't own Hey Arnold! - I don't own Vogue or The Helmsley Building. - I own this story and the OC.**

**As I said before, I am going to list the OCs of this story with the intention to avoid confusions again. Some of them are yet to be seen. **

**You don't need to read this if you don't want/need. This list is going to be added to the next chapter too. Thanks to PresleyRox.**

**Let's start:**

**Claire****: She's Arnold's girlfriend of the last three years.**

**Brenda:**** She's Claire best friend. Arnold doesn't like her too much.**

**Jenna:**** She's a Public Relation girl whose job is organizing events for the local government, companies and rich people. She's Brenda's friend.**

**Henry Mueller:**** Owner of a group of enterprises and Helga's boss.**

**Dick Mueller:**** Henry's nephew. He's an important member of his uncle corporation.**

**Deborah Tilly (Deb)****: Well, she's a forty years old lady who so far is an attendant to the ball who accompanied Helga and the Muellers. We'll see more from her in due time.**

**David (Dave)McMahon****: He works for Mueller Enterprises. He's the man in charge of the Social Assistance Department. He's NOT Deb's couple. They only went to the Ball together , as friends. In fact, Dave was invited to assist only so both Mr. Muellers didn't have to care about organizations.**

**Eva:**** she was the girl chosen by Dick to keep him company for the night. (Probably also some nights before) but their thing is already dead. She appeared in chapter 6. We won't see her again, I hope.**

**Mark****: some guy from Human Resources. **

**Greg****: Assistant Manager of Legal Department.**

**Grace****: On old ex-secretary who has become the woman in charge of the office. She knows everyone, sees everything and has been everywhere. (Not seen yet).**

**Daphne and Matt:**** A couple seen in chapter one. Arnold's ex coworkers. **

**New Characters:**

**Stan: Dick's Right Hand Man. Operations Vicepresident.**

**Mike, Marty, Woody, Ben, Kyle: Operations Team. **

**Characters that are not mentioned in here are minor and probably seen only in one chapter or so.**

**I think that's all so far. **

**Thanks to you all who read this. Very muchos thank yous to you all who take the time to let me know what you think. **

**Thanks to Nep2uune , Jose Ramiro, Presley Rox and CarlinJ83. Carlin, I owe you an apology because I told you it was going to take two days tops and it ended being five. Sorry. My only excuse is that I've been really busy. I appreciate your attention. **

**You'll see Helga really soon. I am still not sure about next chapter lenght; but it is possible that we'll finally get to see and talk to her in there.**

**See you soon**

**September 26****th****, 2014.**


	8. Boardroom

**Rocket to the Moon**

**Chapter Eight**

**Boardroom**

* * *

. . .

Arnold leaned back in the seat, raised his sight and stretched his neck and limbs. His neck ached. He'd been so absorbed in what he was reading that forgot how long he'd been this way. His sight fell on the decorative cornice molding of floor twenty-nine. He wasn't used to the beauty of this place yet. His co-workers probably didn't even see it anymore but to him –starting his third week in here - it was still a cause of admiration.

He'd never thought he would be working in a place like this. He fantasized not long ago of working in an old edifice; a more classical place than a modern office building enveloped in glass, but never dreamed about working in an emblematic place like this. Mueller's headquarters were spread along five floors of the building; from Floor 26th, occupied by the Human Resources and Public Relations Departments' , to 30th where the bosses' offices were located. Legal Department was situated at Floor 29 along with Finances.

The whole building was a beauty. From the arcs of the lobby, passing through the elevators and ending with the offices themselves; they were full with small details that make them extraordinary. The elegance of thirtieth floor was something else. Arnold had been there a couple of times in Deborah's office and he could say the place was outstanding.

At least, that was how Arnold felt. And that was what he'd said to Claire here and there when they talked about his new job; something that -by the way- she found way too interesting. They've had been talking bits of this and that during the last two weeks.

Arnold supposed that there were several reasons for this particular -and more than customary- interest. The principal being probably the economic support she was obtaining from the company for her charity work; followed by the fact that she had met several people who worked here; that it was still a trend topic for she and Brenda; and last but not least, because of his _ex-friend_ Helga Pataki.

. . . . .

_What about of the specifics of his job in here?_

-Was the expected first question-

Well, so far he'd been reading hundreds of contracts. He'd started with simple employment contracts and had went over the whole archive of acquisitions, buys and merges Mueller had gone through the last few years. Its entire story was now in Arnold's mind. Well, almost its entire story. The buying of Big Bob Stores never passed by his hands.

So far his understanding of his new employer wasn't what he thought beforehand. Henry Mueller wasn't this powerful man in search of more and more power just because he could. Contrary to the usual supposition, they bought companies but didn't destroy them. On the contrary, they kept them working, and - as they had done in Big Bob's case- they made them grow. Mueller had also grown in the process; never letting a bad decision takes him for the bad.

Henry had started the development long ago, since his early youth according to Grace, -the matron of the place- and had kept growing for several decades long; all by himself. Smart, firm, concise and always in control, that was how he was defined by people around. And it was until very recently that he'd been releasing the control of the enterprise in favor of his two favorite people in the world: _Dick,_ his nephew who has been by his side fresh from college, in his early twenties, and whose relationship with his uncle at the beginning was awkward -to say the least-, and still could be called problematic once in a while; and_ Helga Pataki_, who had arrived to his life at the precise moment in which their mutual relation was at its nadir, and who -somewhat weirdly- had come to occupy a place that Dick never did. The place of Roger, Henry's late son…. To say the truth, this relationship, Helga and Henry's, had also mutated through the years, though not precisely for the bad.

. . .

_What about all that gossiping? _

Well, gossiping there was, like everywhere else. Arnold already knew who the resident whore was; and who the bootlicker was. Well, bootlickers; they were two. Also had met the gossiper major; her lieutenant and two or three helpers. Arnold wished long live to them all though he wondered if it'd last it because Daphne (a queen bitch on her own right) was now working here.

He'd met her in the hallways his first day in here, much to his chagrin and her _–apparent_\- pleasure_. (Didn't Mueller only hire the best, he wondered?)_ She was a newcomer like himself, though she had started a week before, and he was sure her fame was yet to be known in this part of the world.

. . .

_What about Helga and Dick's dilemma?_

_-_Claire shifted to a more confortable position where she could be able to see him. Arnold hummed before to speak about the subject.-

To be completely honest, Arnold hadn't heard anything of the like. One of two things, he supposed. Or it was something old and nobody talked about it anymore; or it was something that wasn't of average people's concern.

Of course it could be a third option that he didn't mention to her: and it was that there was no Helga around, and it had been this way for as long as three weeks. Dick had also been absent recurrently. Maybe the gossiping about them died and came back to live in cycles?

. . .

_Who this 'Grace' lady was?_

Grace… mmm… alright, he didn't remember her last name… was a woman in her _sixties_ maybe? She was … not a queen… a queen bee neither… she was like the Queen Mother. She knew every place, met everyone and saw everything. She was in charge of the management of the office. Everyone respected her; when there were doubts about anything she was the right person to go to. Even Henry Mueller asked her about stuff and whereabouts.

. . .

_What kind of person Henry Mueller was in the privacy of his reign? _

-Claire seemed to be feeling comfortable making the questioning here; too comfortable in fact. Seeing the satisfied smile on her face, Arnold wondered if she'd wronged her profession.-

Well, first of all, he was a big walker. Seeing Henry Mueller going his way through the different floors and hallways of the office several times per day wasn't unusual. Seeing him mourning for his late son &amp; wife was something that never happened. If Arnold hasn't been told, he'd never suspected it. Henry was the image of success, easiness and resolution. He didn't look like a person who lamented his actual life even when his loved ones weren't actually alive.

Mr. Mueller senior was a tall man with silver hair and seventy-something years old that looked and, actually, acted as someone younger. He was amiable, kind, sociable and most of the staff had him in high esteem. He was the portrait of the perfect employer. But he – as his nephew- had an air of coldness… certain _toughness_ that, at least in Henry case, disappeared when he smiled, which he did quite often.

Arnold usually saw him several times per day, going his way, greeting people (calling them by their names), although his, -Arnold's that's it- had not been said so far by him, nor he seemed to acknowledge particularly his presence. It seemed to Arnold that he didn't remember they'd already met, or that he was Helga's _'little friend'_ by all means.

. . .

_And Dick … what about Dick?_

-Claire leaned comfortably on the couch, crossed her arms over the chest and bit her lip. To this time she didn't bother to hide the pleasure that these conversations brought to her. He guessed all this material was going to be transmitted later with full detail to another avid listener.-

Dick…

For starters, he was rough, tough and -in complete opposition to his uncle- didn't usually smile. A hostile expression was invariably perched on his face which had earned him fame of being difficult. Arnold didn't know what to think of him yet. He had run into him a few times out there, and what he'd seen about him was... confusing.

The first time was in the staircase - which Arnold favored over the sluggish elevator- and he was reaching the landing before the next set of stairs when someone opened a door, pushed past him making him stumble and went on, leaving a grim, unfriendly sensation behind. There was no 'Sorry' or 'Are you okay?' to soften the situation.

The second time Arnold saw him was on floor 28, talking to his assistant. And even when he was giving orders away, it was the first time that Arnold saw him talking to someone and being pretty civil; anyone could say it was a normal conversation. Then when he left and found Grace down the hallway they started to talk and joke. It also left a weird sensation behind, by the way, and not only to him.

The next time Arnold was talking to Greg in the middle of the hallway when he passed by and greeted with a polite "_Hi Greg"_ to his companion, who responded with the parallel and sociable _"Hi Dick"_ back. It was a scene that Arnold saw repeating itself later with some other people of certain position in the company. There were several '_Hi Grace_', '_Hi Deb_', or '_Hi Dave_'… Seemed that greetings were one of the few social conventions to which Dick succumbed.

To end soon, Dick was a strange character. He was someone who divided opinions. Some people hated him, some people feared him, some admired him and some others –girls mainly- loved him. But one certain thing about him was that most of the staff avoided him. Arnold hadn't had the chance to decide anything by himself yet. He hadn't talked to him, at least not yet. And didn't see him as often as he saw Henry for instance, who has business everywhere and with everybody. Dick visited frequently floor 28th because it was where his team's worked.

* * *

. . .

All in all, Arnold job and workplace were… nice. He couldn't call it another way. The rest of the coworkers at the department seemed that had formed a fine work team. Greg always seemed overwhelmed but that seemed to be part of his personality. As he suspected, Deb was a nice boss. Measured, concise, good-tempered; and she has an excellent sense of humor that lamely didn't display as often as she should.

He was given a desk in a cubicle and a bunch of papers to read so far. Sometimes it made him felt as if he was cheating because his workload had been kinda light so far compared to the rest of the staff who worked heavier, but no one was complaining, or surprised -or annoyed. Daphne for instance, was assisting HR Department and was typing away contracts all day long- but from the beginning Deb told him he was going to be fed with copious information at first, and then they were going to need him to his fullest.

Sometimes Arnold dreaded this; at times he felt that he might not be as good as they were supposing he was. But then again, everything he was reading was legal stuff that he understood. There were several things so specific that required consultation, but other than that he didn't feel like he was doing it half bad.

And about the social aspect, Arnold was already making friends. He had already had lunch together with some of his coworkers. He and Daphne had also had lunch together a couple of times. She felt relieved that someone else she knows had gotten a job in here, since her boyfriend Matt hadn't made it.

Claire always the optimistic told him he will be alright soon enough…

And she also continued her enquiring…

Asking about _Helga._

_. _

Before he provided any answer he told her he had some questions on his own.

.

_Was there any problem that he will be working with her? _

Her answer was no. But she admitted her mind betrayed her sometimes and made her wonder _what ifs… _

_What ifs? _He'd asked raising a blond brow.

Helga had been in love with him when they were kids… What if she decided she still liked him and she tried something?

_Well, _Arnold had shrugged, _that was long ago; people changed and… and besides, according to her friend, rumor has it that Helga was in a relationship with Henry, didn't it? _

Yes... but not according to Grace, so he'd said.

_True. But Grace is _only_ assuming. At the end of the day she knew nothing for real, like the rest of us._

So you accept that the possibility of Helga hitting on you is real?

Arnold exhaled looo-ong.

_With all honesty, he didn't think he was boyfriend material for someone like Helga; the actual Helga. He was way out of her league. A smart man like him was aware of that. Besides…_

But she still could try…

_Besides… -_he went on ignoring her interruption -_ if it were the case, if for some bizarre reason it turned out that Helga were interested in him, he was not. As simple as that. He was in a relation with her and wasn't interested in cheating. That was it._

Claire had stirred uncomfortably –probably unconvinced- in his arms and he decided to flip things over just to put an end to this. He was tired and wanted to go to sleep.

_Taking in possibilities, it was a bigger possibility that she was the one who could be easily seduced by someone from Mueller. For starters, she already seemed to be fascinated by Henry. She asked about him every single day…_

Claire dismissed it with a scornful grumble and he went on.

_And he knew she talked to Dave in a daily basis. And not precisely about business. He knew it. She shouldn't try to deny it…._

Arnold contained his breath. There was not reply. Not even a grumble.

He decided then to go on when she interrupted him.

She assured him he didn't have anything to worry about. She had no interest in any of them. She admitted that it was interesting to know them in the social context; or in the aspect that included her charity work, but she could never be into any of them in the romantic sense. And that was everything she was going to say about it ever.

He could go on then.

. . .

And then, it was the turn to talk about Helga Pataki.

Alright, -he thought for a second as he exhaled – _What about Helga Pataki? What did he know about her?_

For starters, Helga had been absent on his first week working at Mueller. She had also been absent half of his second week; it was until Wednesday morning when he arrived to find a big bunch of red flowers at the reception. He didn't have to ask the receptionist who it was for because she was already answering to someone else.

'To Helga, of course." She'd snorted "From her tireless admirer."

Arnold wondered how in earth she had an admirer who dared to send flowers to her office where Henry was around. Of course, he couldn't find an answer. Her tireless admirer turned out to be 'Lucca', the guy she took to Gerald and Phoebe's wedding. Lucca's name was actually 'Luke', and was a high executive of some kind who worked in the same building, a few floors below. Arnold came across him later, in the elevator, -which Arnold still used when he needed to go up more than three floors - carrying a single red rose and flashing that bright smile of him to whomever who looked his way.

Still, Arnold didn't get to see Helga that day, nor the next, nor Friday either. The week ended and he only knew she had actually arrived because Finances got into a frenzy of activity, and because he heard her voice on the other side of the hall.

"_What tan?!"_ she'd scoffed "_You people really think the entire Brazil is Rio or what?! Read a book!" _

Arnold couldn't leave his spot even when he was dying to do it. It'd be awkwardly obvious if he got up and walked to the aisle only to see her. Some people already knew he was Helga's _'little friend'_ from the past and that made the option even less possible.

. . .

Later that day Grace came to his desk and placed a sugar candy in front of him. Arnold frowned seeing the square bar of peanut candy.

"Helga brought them for the team." She winked at him as went on "She always does."

And she went on handing around the sugar treats. Arnold observed her go. Grace was the heart of the office. She also liked gossip, like everybody, but she was too discreet when it was about the bosses. The fact that Arnold had known Helga previously made her show an unveiled preference for him, far over the rest of the newcomers.

_And that was everything about Helga so far._

Claire hummed to let him know she understood.

But Arnold wasn't that naïve anymore, that dense. He knew she wasn't pleased. And then supposed he was going to deal with this all again; her veiled jealousy; her passive aggression. It was barely starting. Claire would like to know everything about his interrelation with Helga from now on.

So he'd decided he wasn't going to play along this time. And he'd start with restraining the info he let out about Helga. And keeping under the surface the slightest _feeling_ he could develop for the blonde girl whose mere voice was able to distract him to the point of making him unable not only to keep reading but to understand the simplest of the papers.

. . .

* * *

:

Monday morning and seemed that Arnold had finally started working. A bunch of documents arrived to his inbox first time in the morning and was his responsibility to check them out; what they were all about, notify the urgencies to Greg and then update the files. His knowledge about most of the cases was still superficial but there were some things that he knew well.

He knew what a budget was: money; usually needed to be filed; not urgent. He knew what a Resolution was, or a Pronouncement; something that needed to be filed but also notified to Greg; ASAP. He hasn't seen Greg in a while so several documents were waiting at the corner of his desk.

Arnold wondered if this was the way his bosses chose to 'educate' him in the cases they were currently working, because it was turning out to be a good method. Look that it was! A couple of days and he'd be an expert. He also was wondering…

His desk phone rang and he raised his sight from the screen of his desktop to see the old black apparatus emitting a sound. He almost saw it trembling. Arnold took a deep breath before answering.

"Legal,"

"_Arnold?"_ It was Deb's voice. She let out a relieved exhalation. "_Thank God you're there. I called Greg and Norman but no one is answering. "_

"You want me to look for them?"

"_No, it doesn't matter now. I need a favor, Arnold. The Kansas file, you have it there?"_

"Yes, I just worked on it." Arnold replied searching in the pile of files at his right.

"_Tell me the Resolution of last Friday is already in there"_

"I just filed it"

"_Thanks God!_" her relief was obvious _"I need eight photocopies of that paper; and I need them here ASAP. Could you do that for me?" _

"To the Boardroom?" she confirmed it "I'm on my way."

"_Thanks Arnold. Please hurry up."_

* * *

. . .

Three minutes later Arnold pushed open the door and stepped into the hall. Emblazoned glass, dark grey walls and red and black decoration gave him the welcome. He walked right to the Boardroom. Henry Mueller's secretary observed him getting close and nodded when he pointed the folder.

"Mrs. Tilly is waiting. You can get in."

"_ME?"_ Arnold almost shouted. The girl let out a knowing smile, and then nodded.

"She was waiting for you." She shrugged, leaving her seat "But it's alright. I understand if you are feeling shy..."

"Nah, it's okay. I'll do it."

"You sure?"

He nodded.

Arnold turned around. The Boardroom felt ominous. The etched glass of its walls made impossible to see anything but shapes. He knocked softly and pushed open the door. He located Deb immediately in the second seat to the right and she nodded, beckoning him to go in. He walked right to her, struggling to avoid looking somewhere, _someone_ else; showing an easiness that was far from real. His heart was thumping deafeningly; his eyes were blind to anything that wasn't Deb. But in a blink everything passed to a second place when he heard something beyond the beating of his own heart.

A voice; Helga's voice.

"It's written right there. You want me to read it for you?" her voice was stern. "Pittsburg Steel Profile's is a company…" she started in a monotonous rhythm.

"You know I'm not talking about that. What I am questioning is your criteria to choose precisely these three options? Nothing else. Would we ever know what was left out? And why was it left out?"

Arnold turned mechanically to see her, seated at the opposite side of the table. She had her hair in a bun; an ivory blouse under a chic navy blue jacket and was seeing right to the person seated in front of her.

"Are you seriously asking me that?" She looked at her interlocutor with incredulity. "Do I… _ask… _why you choose a system over another to implement it in a given enterprise?"

Deb finished checking the file Arnold brought and then observed the bunch of photocopies.

"_Please Arnold, hand them around." _she asked under her breath.

"You could do it anytime" Dick answered with broad gloating.

"For God's sake!" Helga turned right, to see Henry seated at the head of the table "Do we really need to go over this?"

"What's your point, Dick?"

Arnold started to walk around the table. He doubted for a second what way to go first, but decided to start by Deb's left. The next seat was occupied by Dick who had started to speak again. Fortunately no one was paying the slightest attention to him. He went on handing a copy to Henry at the Head of the Table and then went to Helga who was still seeing Dick as he talked, so he left it in front of her…

"Why she only chose these three companies? An acrylic factory in Brazil? Steel profiles in Pittsburgh? Or a clothing manufacturer in… _Bangladesh?_"

"It's India." Helga corrected him.

Arnold went on with the rest of people. They seemed to be shareholders and not only directives.

"It has to be one of them?"

"It has not to be one of them necessarily. It's not decided yet. We'll vote, as usual." one of the men at the other side of the table answered. Dick looked at him with a knowing smile.

"But we trust Helga because she's done good choices before…"

Arnold kept going as Helga shook her head with disdain and spoke again.

"That's not Richard's problem, Jerry." She smirked "He's just showing his discomfort, as usual. His complain is because I brought up 'greyish' companies; nothing fancy. He'd love that I'd come up through these doors announcing that we're going to buy Bugatti... Embraer… or…"

"Why you always are trying to ridicule me?" Dick asked, exalted.

"Why are you voicing my thoughts?" she countered back, sharp.

"Is that it, Dick?" One of the other men asked.

"I can't say I'm happy seeing the choices she brought this year…"

"Nothing makes you happy!" Helga said in low voice.

"Well, we're not here to be happy. We're here to make business. Businesses that make us earn money, and if Helga brought them to the table I am sure there's a reason for that." Henry pronounced, straightening in his seat. The table was silent.

Arnold ended his job and went to Deb side. He asked in low voice if she needed him anymore and she shook her head, showing him her thanks. He nodded.

As Arnold rounded the table and walked out he couldn't help but direct his sight to Helga and his heart skipped a beat when he saw her seeing him. Her blue eyes pierced his, surprised, enquiring; a slight frown in her forehead. But she said nothing as her sight followed him until he couldn't keep seeing her anymore.

Arnold reached the door, got out and exhaled; realizing he had been holding his breathing. He sucked in air loudly and walked to the door that led to the staircase. He leaned against it once it was closed behind him. His heart was beating fast and loud. He could swear anyone close enough could hear it. He breathed in and out; in and out again, then leaned the back of his head against the wood, closing his eyes. He knew she was going to be there; that was why he was dreading to step into the Boardroom when a meeting was taking place. His nerves were a wreck.

But more than anything he was surprised and angry because he couldn't restrain himself. Why he was acting like a goofy teenager? With wobbly knees, sweaty palms and the whole nine yards only because a girl that he despised long ago; a girl who offered him her love and he turned down; a girl whose blue eyes still haunted him; some blue eyes his unconscious still related with true, pure love. With endless love.

* * *

. . .

An hour later he was finally ending with the mail. He felt satisfied with himself. His encounter with Helga was in the past and he was able to keep working despite that temporary incapacity. He'd realized that seeing him had also altered her, and that made him feel so good.

He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his head when a new mail arrived. He grunted, and took his time before straightening to reach his mouse and open the newly arrived post.

'Helga Pataki' it read.

He rushed to click it and the message opened a second later. Arnold blinked repeatedly after reading the few lines in front of him

"_Hey Arnold, _

_What a surprise to find you in here! Deb told me how she found you miraculously while riding Mr. Slow. Lucky Girl! Look that to find the one and only Football Head in there! Congratulations! _

_What are you doing at lunch by the way? No plans? What about if you reach me at 1:15 at Luna Nueva to catch up? Let me know your answer ASAP or __you'd lose your chance__. I'm a busy woman!_

_Helga G. Pataki_

_Chief Financial Officer_

_Mueller Enterprises_

It was followed by her work number and her cellphone. He looked at it for a second; the words blinking before him. The memory of her blue eyes on his made him swallow. _Nervous wreck my ass!_ Then he went to the top of the page to click a reply.

.

* * *

**I don't own Hey Arnold!**

**I don't own Bugatti, Embraer or any other TM mentioned here**

**Thanks to you who review: Jose Ramiro, Carlin and Nep2uune. You guys really make my day, make me smile and encourage me to go on. **

**I want to say sorry for the delay. Sometimes I am so overwhelmed with work and responsibilities that I think I've never be able to write again. Fortunately time to write eventually comes. Sadly is not as much as I wished.**

**I also want to announce to the Spanish speakers that I'm going to translate another story. It's a Heidi Patacki story again, named 'Something Wicked'. To those of you who haven't read it (English, of course) I encourage you to do so. **

**Link: after fanfiction dot net slash goes: s/2092537/1/Something-Wicked . **

**It's a lovely story, very appropriate for this upcoming Halloween season and you're going to find fun, romance... and _something_ _else _in there. To those of you who already know it I invite you to rediscover it. I am sure you'll enjoy it again. My thanks to Heidi are right here: ¡Muchas gracias Heidi! **

**A los lectores en español. Son tres capitulos que contaré en aproximadamente diez días. Espero terminar en Halloween.**

**Oct 21, 2014.**


	9. Luna Nueva

**Rocket to the Moon**

**Chapter Nine**

**Luna Nueva**

. . .

* * *

Luna Nueva was a small restaurant located three blocks away from Helmsley. Greg had given Arnold directions to reach it, so at one fifteen he stopped in front of the crystal doors to check quickly his image before open them up and enter into the place. One of the waiters came immediately to his encounter.

"Table for one, sir?" the man with dark hair and Hispanic traits asked as Arnold flattened his tie.

"No. In fact I'm gonna meet a friend here," he looked around in the almost full parlor while breathed out to fight down his nervousness "Helga Pata…"

"_Ah -_ Miss Pataki," the man nodded and pointed ahead "this way sir."

_She was already there?_ Arnold cursed inwardly. He was in a run for nothing; he wanted to be the first to arrive. He exhaled, wondering if he was ready to meet her. His swift, thoughtless reply to her mail felt heavy in his stomach. In no time they reached the end of the hallway and turned left to be immediately facing a small table in a quieter and darker area of the restaurant. Their arriving was so sudden that Helga raised her sight from her cellphone, surprised, and stood - as in reflex.

"Hey!" she let out.

"Hi…"

Before he could think, Arnold was extending his hand, shaking hers and letting go. A second later he got the impression that she was about to hug him, probably to kiss his cheek even, but his abrupt greeting stopped her. Surrounded by the memory that she'd cheek-kissed him at the Ball he cursed himself. When he reacted, she was taking her seat again, and was stealing a glance to her phone.

"Do you fancy something to drink, sir?" the waiter asked.

Arnold blinked and turned to see the table.

"Whatever she's drinking will do it," he replied.

"Lemonade, -regular sugar?" the waiter asked again.

"Yes, please," The guy nodded and went off.

"Thanks Ruy." Helga spoke, giving him a glance, then turning to Arnold "Just a second, Arnold, please."

"Take your time." Arnold drew a hollow smile. It seemed that she was in the middle of something. He took advantage of this lapse to take her in.

So this was Helga Pataki, his ex- tormentor; the girl who had him filled with anticipation. Her hair was in a loose bun as it had been in the morning; and when she stood Arnold saw she was wearing an ivory colored dress that reached her knees and hugged her hips nicely. The blue business jacket was now hanging from a rack behind her. Her nose was exactly as he remembered from his dream; with its tip gracefully upturned. He frowned.

This was the old Helga from his childhood but at the same time it wasn't. That Helga was brash, rude, and this one was the epitome of femininity and graciousness. What had happened to her? Because it wasn't only the nose, he could tell. Her voice was the same, but her presence, her demeanor couldn't be more different. Now she smiled all of the time –well, when she was arguing earlier with Dick she wasn't -; was nice, polite; people around spoke wonders of her; said she has an extraordinary sense of humor. The old Helga was abrasive, and nasty, and was always on the defensive.

What had happened to the old Helga? He wondered again. He saw her biting a smile as she reread whatever she wrote before sending it.

.

"So, Arnold…" she started after the waiter arrived with his drink, also bringing the set of choices. Right there, she'd done it again. She flashed a smile to the guy who couldn't walk off happier. "I never thought I'd ever see you again -and there were you, right on the Boardroom! Ole Football Head handing around papers as some aide. I swear I thought _'Let's take a look to Deb's newest toy' _when, bam, it was you!"

"Deb's newest toy?" he asked, raising a brow; don't wanting to make quick judgments about her words, - or Deb's reputation.

"Forget I said it" she shrugged nonchalantly, but then added, probably because his deep frown didn't go away "I'm just kidding. It's me and Deb's jig. Not a big deal."

"I…" he vacillated.

"Don't tell me you're still Mr. Goody-Goody, old do-the-right-thing-well- intended Mr. Shortman who feel insulted by a simple joke?"

"No, of course not."

'_I am thirty now'_ he wanted to state but knew he'd sound lame. Was he really that pathetic? He wondered as he saw her leaning back in her seat and taking a sip of her drink. She was probably wondering if all this had been a good idea.

"I am happy to hear that." A mocking smile appeared on her lips, then she leaned her forearms on the table. "What were you doing looking for a job at your… _thirty_?" she asked, taking the menu but still watching him. "I don't know why, but I thought you'd be the kind of guy who remains faithful to his first job."

Arnold blinked, wondering if he should feel offended.

"Why would you think that?"

"Not sure." She narrowed her eyes. Arnold felt that awkwardness again. What was he doing wrong? Was he making her try too hard? Was he being unfriendly?

It was only logical to reason that after more than ten years apart, and virtually zero contact, people had a bad time trying to reconnect. Maybe she also knew it, which was why she was trying to start a conversation. She must be an expert, given her position; but she was being abrasive, or at least that's was how he felt her. But then again, Helga used to be abrasive, and rude, and was a powerful woman nowadays. Maybe it was only that the old Helga was still around.

Though he should recognize that additional to all those circumstances, he was too nervous - _too predisposed perhaps? -_ to get relaxed and enjoy seeing an old friend.

He looked back at her and it was obvious she was thinking the same thing. But she was looking back at him with openness.

"Look…" he spoke

"I guess…" she had also started, but then stopped "Go ahead Football Head," there it was, that smile again; maybe he was overthinking "-you spoke first."

He smiled back. Feeling the muscles of his face straining he wondered if he hadn't smiled so far.

"But you were talking before. I interrupted you,"

She let out a sigh "If you insist, -" she vacillated for a second, "I didn't mean to be offensive. Sorry if I made you feel that way," she shrugged, taking the menu in her hands and looking briefly at it "What I meant was that I always thought you were... loyal…dependable. I didn't see you as someone who'd be jumping from job to job. And I mean it in a good way. I kind of liked that - from the old you."

"What exactly?" he leaned forward and offered her a coy smile, surprising himself "I didn't feel offended, by the way, but thanks for the concern" he added, not losing eye contact.

"My God, Arnold! Look at you! You've become such a Romeo!"

"No, I'm not!"

"Yes, you are! But you're losing your time here, amigo. I'm not the same goof that I was when I was ten and fell for you"

"Why you fell out of me by the way? - When?"

_He had a completely different question in the tip of his tongue!_ He blinked; his ears thumped. He couldn't believe he had just asked that. What was happening to him?!

"My gosh! How arrogant!" Helga cracked a laugh "I grew up, for God's sake!"

"That's it?" Arnold retreated in his seat, trying to regain control.

She nodded, still chuckling, looking at him with incredulity.

"When? I don't know. '_Out of sight, out of mind'_, I guess." She shrugged again "I remember, years later, being in love with a guy at college-" she made a sudden halt and lost her smile.

"What happened?" Arnold asked curious, concerned… regaining control.

"Dad died." She uttered. Arnold nodded.

"You left college,"

She let out a long sigh.

"Yeah, - our _'love'_ didn't survive distance," she remained contemplative for some seconds but then shook it off and added in a more spirited fashion "He was kinda nerdy, you know? His mom loved me because I bullied his bullies. Oh _-the irony!"_

Arnold laughed; thought it was more a relieved laugh because their little reunion didn't feel that awkward anymore, and not because he understood what the entire irony thing was about.

"Because you bullied him?" he ventured.

"Of course I bullied him; I was the bigger bully around, I guess I never stopped. I don't know how you guys managed to put up with me for so long." She chirped. "In my defense I have to say that he loved being bullied."

Arnold sighed longingly. He could only imagine. Did he love being bullied? What he remembered were good old times… never to come back again.

"Listening to you talking about nerds made me remember Brainy," Arnold left his contemplation and spoke with full meaning –Helga had stolen another quick glance to her phone. Bringing up old times had worked for him before - in this case memories of the guys and girls from Mr. Simmons's class – he went on. "I wonder what he's up to these days"

"Brainy… ¿you mean Burt?"

"Burt?" Arnold frowned. Helga nodded, with her sight on the menu in front of her.

"That's his name. Burt… aka Brainy is working for Hollywood nowadays. He's a big shot."

"Really?" Helga nodded again, raising her sight from the menu to look at him "Is he an actor?"

"God forbid!" she snorted "Though he's actually kind of handsome, you know? He created a TV series that hit it years ago. He's still working on it; its fourth season - or five - or something."

"Really? What series is it? Do you see it?"

She shook her head.

"Something for kids. And actually I don't. I almost don't see television. No free time anymore." She pouted.

"That's a shame."

She agreed. "I have to choose carefully my entertainment nowadays."

"I guess I know what you're talking about," he heaved a sigh.

"Take your choice now," she asked after a pause. Arnold frowned and she pointed the carte du jour "Ruy is gonna be here anytime and you better be ready. He's kinda grumpy," she smirked.

"Is he?"

She bowed her head. While they were at it, reading the menu, she asked him about his life.

It wasn't a long story - he warned- before starting telling her about his life at college, his worldwide backpacking; then went quickly over his previous jobs in a quick enumeration, and ended speaking about what he'd been doing at Mueller so far as he checked the menu. He didn't mention Claire. Helga didn't ask. She remained listening in silence. When he turned to see her again, she had set her menu on the table.

"What are you having?" he asked.

"Chicken Coconut Salad" she pointed it out in the menu.

"Is that Spanish?"

"Who knows? - I like it. If you want to try something Spanish you should try the Paella. It's really good. Henry loves it."

Of course Henry

"You come frequently to this place?"

She nodded.

"Twice, three times per month."

"Business lunches?"

This time she shook her head.

"With Henry." She replied "Always that's possible we have lunch together; though we use to go eat to his place. He has some cooker!"

"Has he?"

"Yep! That woman is the best."

"Where is he now?" Arnold wondered if it was because Henry's absence that she was with him today.

"He's in a lunch-meeting with his club of rich friends." Her smile grew "They met twice per year to see who the richer guy in town is."

"Oh, come on!"

"Really! All that they is show-off and compare their money!" she mimicked amounts with her hands.

"No way!" Arnold laughed "I don't know Henry that well, but I can't believe he is that kind of guy."

Helga was still laughing, but then nodded seeing past him.

"You're right. He's not that kind of guy. I'm just kidding."

"I knew it."

"But that doesn't mean the rest of guys are the same. They show off, I tell you."

The waiter arrived, and their set their orders. Helga asked for her Chicken Salad and he ordered the Paella.

"I'll trust you," he said as the Ruy guy went off "although that Paella looked dangerous."

"Don't eat all the seafood in your plate and that's it." She shrugged "That's what Henry does."

Arnold suppressed a rolling of his eyes. That boss of them!

"But seafood is the best part of the dish," he complained.

"Well, I guess you can eat it if you like. You're right. Henry has to restrain because his cholesterol levels and poor circulation. But you're a young, healthy man; - you can eat all the seafood you want."

"Is Henry sick?"

"Mmmm, no actually. But he needs to take care. And in fact he does, most of the time. He walks a lot. And his cooker knows his needs and doesn't spoil him. Besides he uses to be careful when eating outside, though sometimes he spoils himself by eating _wurst_." Her phone buzzed and she turned to see it. "See," she showed it to him "He's having salmon today, not a fat rib eye steak, huh?"

Her phone showed asparagus, a piece of salmon and rice in an ornate plate. Arnold was surprised seeing the always so formal Henry acting like a frivolous teenager in an important meeting.

"Don't think badly of Henry." She pointed to her phone as she sent a giant thumbs up "He says everybody acts like that. In fact, he asked me to teach him how to use Messenger and Whatsapp because everywhere he goes everybody but he does it."

"Really?" Arnold was surprised. That was something he'd never guessed. And at the same time realizing that Helga and Henry's relationship –romantic or not- was indeed a close one "He didn't know how to use it? Whatsapp I mean?"

Helga scoffed.

"Henry is allergic to technology…. Correction," she supplemented "he _was. _Now he's like a child with a new toy."

"You seem to be very fond of him."

Helga raised her sight to look at him. Those blue eyes of his dreams were looking at him in direct; less than two feet away. But these eyes weren't the same. Her sight was smarter now; - cannier, colder. They were the eyes of a mature woman; someone who didn't harbor feelings for the person in front of her anymore. In fact, they were gauging him, as if wondering how trustful he was.

"Henry is the most important person in the entire world to me. Of course I am fond of him."

"Like family?"

"More than family perhaps." She paused "I love Miriam, and of course I do love Olga and her kids, but I only see them once in a while. Well, in Miriam case I see her more often…"

"Where do they live? I mean, you all disappeared from earth after everything. I knew you sold the house in Hillwood." Arnold cringed inwardly when realized he'd changed the conversation. He should shut himself up and let her talk freely.

"Mom sold it. After the stores went nothing tied her to that place."

"Why did you sell it?" another turn in the exchange - prompted by him - again. _Was his lawyer spirit taking charge?_

She sighed deeply and turned to the distance.

"Why so curious?" she asked after a while, taking a sip of her lemonade.

"I don't know. I found it strange. I knew you weren't too fond of your father… legacy… but you were there to save the day, nonetheless."

"Legacy…" she repeated. "You knew that?" She asked then "You weren't even in town back then."

"Well, I wasn't there, but people always talks about such stuff. Everybody in Hillwood knew your dad."

"Everybody but me," she mumbled to herself. Arnold frowned. He wondered what answers he'd obtain from her and what doubts would remain being a mystery. He was sure she wouldn't talk about this last one slip once again.

"Well, long story short," she re started sprightly; answering his former question "You can say I was made an offer I couldn't refuse. They accepted my conditions. They let me …" she thought twice "…get my own way. Henry was so _benevolent_ that I suspected there was something fishy going on backstage, but at that moment I was so… relieved - with being released…" she took air again. "I was alone… on my own… dealing with so much… and being so young and inexpert, that - I saw a way out and took it." She looked at him for a moment, then added "I must add that Miriam wasn't getting any better. Olga wasn't of any help… she had her own issues to deal with. Maybe the actual I had made things different, but back then I just needed to let go… and Henry solemnly swore to honor Bob's name."

It seemed that he had kept his word. Big Bob Stores had nationwide renown.

"Turned out that there was something fishy?"

"No," Helga replied immediately, but then tilted her head and added "…and yes…. It's weird. Probably Big Bob's was the company that took the longest ever to recompense what they paid for it, throughout Mueller's buying history, but at the same time…" she trailed off.

"But at the same time?" he asked, resorting to the expression he used to bring up when he wanted to go poking around people's secrets, but he should know Helga wasn't going to fell that easily.

"You never know all that is at stake…" she shrugged, throwing him a disdainful sight, deciding to answer him despite being perfectly conscious of his intentions. "Big Bob Stores is to this day one of the most successful companies of the conglomerate, Arnold; low inversion, high cash flow. Henry knew very well what he was doing back then, even when I didn't see it. And before you start thinking how smart you are -you know- by making me to speak this lot - let me tell you that I am saying all this because I remember you as an honorable man, and I decided on to trust you. Also because I guess you're being prepared to the big leagues, but -"

"Big leagues?" he inquired - his heart skipping a beat, but she only shook her head and went on.

"But over all - because I know you signed a Privacy Agreement that you are bound to observe." She ended. Arnold blinked. "Yes, Arnold, this is still business. And yes, Arnold, I said big leagues. You're not going to be doing routine work in here. Deb is getting you ready to work directly either with Henry, Dick or me."

"Why you say that? Deb told you something?"

"No," she took another sip of her drink "-but you did. You just told me you read all those contracts. Do you think Mueller let anyone get their noses into stuff like that?"

Arnold remained silent for a while, contemplative. Alright, he should admit he had suspicions… suspicions were not certainties. So Helga was telling him he was reaching for the top again, inadvertently…

Why? Was he ready for that? Did he want it? He pondered as the waiter came with their plates. He watched Helga talking to him. Her jovial smile bordered coquetry.

This was an entirely new Helga, completely different from the one he knew. But that had been long ago. In fact, this Helga was probably not new; she had been out there for years, only that he hadn't seen her. This was a cheerful, beautiful, full of life girl, with a hint of the old Helga. Suddenly Arnold found himself missing her.

After the waiter went he decided to start questioning her all the bunch of things that had been in his mind for so long; and the new questions that were raised after their encounter at the Ball almost a month ago. Time was ticking.

"Have you seen other than Brainy lately?"

"Well, in fact I haven't seen him." She took a piece of the coconut crusted chicken of her salad.

"You don't?"

She shook her head no and Arnold watched her eating the tasty looking piece of chicken. Preventing looking like a creep as he watched her mouth, he turned to his own plate to take charge of a shrimp; then took a spoonful of rice. Mmmm…. His plate was delicious. Arnold thought it should be a torture to be forced to let the seafood and meat aside; though he must confess that there were more than enough seafood and meat in his helping.

"No, I haven't," she finally replied. "He sent me a friend request through Facebook and I accepted him. I remembered we were kind of friends finishing eighth grade."

"Really?"

She nodded. "I loved his sense of humor. It's extraordinary. - Can you believe he proposed?!"

"He WHAT?" Arnold almost spat the mouthful of rice he was eating.

"He proposed!" Helga laughed, "Using his characters from the show in the proposal. It was creative, I must admit. He's a genius."

"I can't believe it." Arnold paused "What was your answer?"

"I married him." she answered nonchalantly.

Arnold froze for some seconds.

"You're kidding, right?"

"DOI! Of course I'm kidding! What would I do? – Marry a guy who I haven't seen in years and who lives in the other side of the country?!"

"God, I can't believe it!"

Little old Brainy… Making a long distance proposal…

Arnold snorted.

"You seem freaked out"

"I can't believe it. I mean, I suppose it's hard to believe given his seriousness."

"Yep," she nodded. "Well, other than him I keep only seeing Phoebe, and Rhonda. I went to Hillwood in February to Minerva's christening. And about Rhonda, I see her…"

"You what?! They already had her baptized?" Helga nodded, and then raised her brows; apparently realizing he hadn't been invited just now "Are you her godmother?" She nodded again, slowly. Arnold frowned. His presence was not requested.

"Her godfather is Jaime O…" she added. Looking intently into him; then she went on "Hey, don't feel bad Football Head." She left her napkin on the table. "Maybe I shouldn't mention it. I didn't remember you being there. But I heard Gerald saying you will be the godfather of their future boy kid - along _Timberly _–" she smirked "-who was also upset for being left aside. Lucky you! Timberly is a gorgeous girl!" she paused, turning to her plate "Phoebe said she was happy there were only two siblings and two best friends because she wasn't willing to be the mother of three. God! I never thought baptisms would be so complicated!" She ended in a casual manner; effectively resting importance to his potential sensitiveness.

"Well, -" he puffed. Thinking again he kinda remembered Gerald calling him to ask if he'd go to visit town soon, but he couldn't recall clearly.

No, it wasn't completely true, he thought seconds later. Arnold remembered complaining about his job… and being jealous of his best friend jolly rant about his lovely daughter.

Well, it was past. He'd do something about it later.

This was the present. Helga was just in front of him. His cellphone chimed.

"What about Rhonda?" he went on ignoring it.

"Rhonda… she's working for Vogue, I guess you already know it, right?" he nodded "Well, she also lives here in Midtown. We used to meet once per month to have lunch together. But now we meet for dinner instead. Always that's possible - Friday of the third week of the month it's our night."

He smiled seeing her enthusiasm "It's great that you keep seeing one of your best friends"

"Yep, it's nice. Rhonda's like a sister,"

"Talking about sisters - what about your real sister?"

"Olga?" he nodded "She lives in California with his husband, Malcolm; their two children, George and Pam; a cat and two dogs, I think. She's doing alright."

"I remember seeing her pregnant at your father funeral"

She nodded again; then frowned.

"Yeah, she was there despite she was having a very bad time… dealing with dad's death and mom's-"

"You had also bad time, if my memory still works,"

She turned to see him; her sight shadowed.

"Yeah," she sighed "It was hard… but it was harder to them both. Mom's…" she paused, looking at him again "You know mom was having alcohol issues back then?" Arnold nodded "Well, she lost it. She almost went crazy when dad passed-on…. And then Olga's pregnancy got complicated. That was a crazy time. In my mind everything is a blur; like the aftermath of a natural disaster or something"

"Was it a heart attack?" she nodded "I guess it was you who had to take charge of everything?"

"Someone had to," she sighed "I was so stupid. I was studying English, for God's sake! What did I know about business?" she exhaled "Fortunately Bob had taken me to his workplace before, so I had an idea of what to do, if marginally. At least I had something to start."

"I heard you did things well; took some good decisions. Changing from cellphones to electronics was genius."

"Well, we wouldn't survive being an intermediary of a single product; working with only one company. What we needed was to catch more clients, increase our incomes."

"So you opened another store in North Dakota…"

"Yeah, - you knew it?" she raised her brows "You know that it was right there when I called Mueller's attention?" she grinned "I went deep beyond their boundaries." She chuckled.

"It was when Henry came up with the proposal you couldn't refuse, I guess?" He asked, visualizing the situation.

"You can say - though it wasn't exactly like that," a mischievous smile appeared on her lips.

"I didn't know they were from North Dakota, are they?" Arnold frowned. He scolded himself. Once again he had asked a question that made the conversation to take another path.

"Yep, they are. They came to the big city relatively recently." Helga took this new thread easily; then she sighed "Dad met them back then, in North Dakota. He was once their employee."

"Really?"

She only nodded and remained pensive for a while. "He worked for a furniture store the old Muellers had; I remember dad yapping out how he started in the storage room, … but that was long ago," she cut herself off.

Arnold remembered a dream where Bob was telling him something like that. Had he heard it somewhere?

"I guess Bob was a smart guy… who learned to do the job."

"I guess. That's what Henry says." she drew a small smile "He uses to say there had only been one Big Bob Pataki -"

"There's also only one Helga G. Pataki," he added. Helga peered at him. The corners of her lips turned up in a sardonic smile.

"He also says that."

"What is all this noise about you and him? Is he really your boyfriend?"

"My gosh! What a rude question!" she scoffed "Did someone ask you to come and ask this?"

"Of course not!" he replied immediately "It's just..." she was watching him with an amused expression but it wasn't all…. Was she angry?

"It's just…?" she prompted him to go on.

"It's just that I find strange that you… that you and him…"

"What? That we'd be a couple? Why? Because the age difference?"

"No!" he shook his head "It's just because… I have the impression that you see him as a father…" _Shit!_ He closed his eyes when he realized what had he just said. Why had he assumed something like that? He didn't know her at all!

When he raised his sight she had leaned back in her chair and was looking at him with an inscrutable expression.

"That was lame. I'm sorry." He started.

"That's what you think?" she inquired, cold.

"I – I don't know what I think. I've seen you two and…-" He exhaled "Look, I am sorry… I don't know why I said that. I know it's not my business…"

"It's nobody business,"

"I know"

"And no one has the right to come to ask something like that… or to ask someone else to come and ask-"

"Nobody asked me…"

"Don't feel as though you owe someone a favor, Arnold. You are a newcomer; probably you were already bombarded with dirt. There's a lot of false information about us out there. I love Mueller, but I do know this is in some aspects a foul environment. I don't know why people think they have the right to know, ask, or even suppose-" Arnold raised his sight to make clear that nobody had asked him nothing, but she went on ignoring him "something that is none of their business. It affects neither their lives nor their jobs. Henry's affairs matter only to him. Mine are my business. Dick's are only his; and so the rest of us. Understood?"

He nodded. "I don't know why you'd assume…"

"Because it had happened before. The gossiping in here is so intense that sometimes we wonder if we're dealing with something else. I don't know, I probably shouldn't talk to you about this stuff but you seem having earned Deb's esteem and I remember you as a fair boy. I'd hate seeing you in the middle of the wrong people; not without warning. I am not asking you to take our stand; I'm just asking you to keep your eyes open."

"What is what you suspect?" he asked, worried. Helga shrugged her shoulders, probably thinking she'd spoken more than enough for a day. "That some outsider is in here trying to damage the company?"

"Well,-"

"Because what I've heard is normal gossiping…well, with the usual suspicions raised by your and Henry's public demeanor"

Arnold wondered if the brightness on her cheeks was blush.

"Really?" she frowned; there was nothing else in her bearings that helped Arnold to confirm she felt embarrassed "Nothing more? Nothing about Dick, me and our eternal fight to demonstrate who's the more qualified to the succession?"

"Well," Arnold started. He doubted for a second if he should tell her all what Brenda had said, but Helga was already leaning in to hear his tale. "To tell the truth I have to say that I heard something like that, but it wasn't here…" and he went on recounting what he had heard. He was wondering if it could be possible that there were a malicious somebody around there when Helga interrupted him

"Look, Arnold, I really don't want to hear the rest of it. It's shameful that you have to hear something like that when you didn't even worked in here. It's a shame that that kind of information is out there being repeated by people who had nothing to do with us, with all respect to your girlfriend and your friend, but I guess there's nothing I can do about it."

"So it's not true?"

"Please, Arnold, don't be a goof," she chuckled.

"I thought you and Dick have a difficult relationship"

"Not at all." She waved her hand nonchalantly.

"You mean you two love each other like brothers?"

"Hey! I didn't say that!" she exclaimed, now she looked embarrassed. Arnold frowned, amused "But in fact you've described us to some extent."

"You mean you're like a brothers and sisters?"

"More likely like step-siblings." She corrected "We have our differences and we fight, that's true, but that's what brothers and sisters do, isn't it?" she seemed relieved with having found a comparison.

"You tell me. I don't have siblings." He smirked, remembering the fight he witnessed in the morning "You mean that he's like Olga used to be?"

"Dick?" she raised her brows "Nope. Not at all." Then she paused "Well, maybe yes." She frowned "I mean, I admit that there's this rivalry thing to catch the '_parents_' attention; and I admit that we might cause some headaches to Henry; but, and this is a huge but, Henry is nothing like my parents; and Dick is nothing like Olga."

"No?" he asked; feeling happy that their conversation seemed to become one of those old, unpredicted heart-to-heart talks that they had when they were kids.

"No. I mean, Henry would be by far a better, more attentive parent than what Bob or Miriam ever were,"

"You seem to be the favorite daughter in here." Arnold pointed out. She wrinkled her nose at him. Arnold smiled. He added another question to the questionnaire.

"And Dick, well, he doesn't attack you from behind; doesn't steal your parents' attention when you're too young to fight back. Olga was this perfect little girl that your parents just couldn't ignore, or let aside. Dick is nothing like that. You know what to expect from him; you know when he's getting ready for the battle, and over all, you know what his quarrels are all about."

"It's strange." He said "I thought you hated each other but you seem to like him."

"It's not just liking, Arnold. I know him the same way he knows me. He fights, but he doesn't betray. We're both in the same boat"

"Are you sure about that?" hesitantly, yet convinced that he was doing the right thing –after all, this Helga was the old Helga. They were the same. She had confided him stuff that he was sure she didn't trust everybody. Arnold was sure they were still friends, so he proceeded to tell her all what he witnessed at the Ball, the scene between Dick and Eva.

"Then Dick went off leaving her on her own." he ended.

"You mean all that show was for me?" she sneered; pulling out a satisfied grin.

"Well, Dick wanted Eva to steal Henry's attention from you. He wanted see you defeated."

"Dick's like a kid, don't you see it?" she asked, amused "What was his big plan? Steal Henry's attention from me? Leave me alone at the Ball?" she shook her head.

"He wanted you out of his game - that was what he said"

"He doesn't know what to do with me out of his game." She scoffed "He'd be lost and he knows it. Of course Mueller can get any moment another CFO; and of course Mueller can get any moment another COO; we both could be easily erased from the group of senior executives, but why get things complicated when Henry himself prepared us to those positions and when we're doing our job? That's just ridiculous!"

"I think you underestimate him. He looked resolute to me."

"He was just jealous." Helga dismissed him.

"Jealous?"

"I don't mean jealous in the romantic sense, Arnold. It was just plain, working-related jealousy. Dick is like that."

Arnold couldn't believe his ears. She stubbornly didn't want to hear his warning. Dick Mueller wasn't her friend, let alone her brother,

"You know Henry is not eternal"

"Don't ever say that again." She didn't cry out, but her voice was stern; her sight hardened. She turned to her plate and then up to look for the waiter "Where's this guy?" she grumbled.

"Helga…"

"Look Arnold, I'm not in denial. I know Henry won't live forever, - nor me or you. But no one knows the future. Nobody knows who'd go first. It could be me. So, - I chose not to worry until the moment arrives."

"Right," he replied, bowing his head

"Now we can talk about something else, please…- or ask for the bill if you want. I don't know what time you have to come back."

"At three…" he turned to his phone. "We still can ask for dessert" he had a missing call, coming from Claire. And a missing message. He blocked up the screen.

"I better don't" she grunted.

"Why not?" he frowned, turning to see her "We still have half an hour"

"It's not the time," she cleared, wriggling her brows "-but the calories."

Remembering her slender waist he thought she didn't need to worry about that.

"Are you going to let me eating all alone?" he complained.

"Mmmm…"

The waiter arrived and Arnold asked for ice cream. Helga chose an espresso. Then she stood and apologized to go to the restrooms, taking her cellphone and handbag with her. Arnold sighed, seeing her disappearing behind a wall.

.

* * *

.

For a moment he got concerned. Was she getting bored? Was she angry with him? Why she was here - with him- after all? It was only because there was no one else available to go eat with her? Arnold doesn't believe for a moment that Helga Pataki would get a lunch buddy in a second. She was here because she wanted to reconnect, to catch up, probably; to have a nice time talking to an old acquaintance.

And he, -why he had accepted going to see her? Well, he could tell he wanted also to catch up, and reconnect; to see an old friend; to know what she'd been up to lately. Arnold had a mental list of things that he wanted to ask her; including her job… or how her beginnings at Mueller were; but time was ticking and she'd only told him why she sold her company, and little else from his list. She didn't tell how she was hired, when, why….

Alright, she had also shared stuff that wasn't in the list: her past, her family issues, their situation surrounding Big Bob's death; some 'secrets' of the company; her relation with Henry, if shallowly; with Dick, to whom she seemed to underestimate. For a smart woman like her it was weird. Arnold wondered why? Has it something to do with Dick being Henry's family, after all? Was it for the company's sake? She'd said Henry was the most important person in her life.

Arnold felt a pang in his chest. He had to admit that he'd come also with the childish hope that she still harbored feelings for him. Why, he didn't know. What he'd do if she did, -_he didn't know_! He was actually in a relationship after all; he wasn't free to run at her side if she asked him so, but she didn't. She didn't care about him anymore; she flatly recognized it. And he was sure she wasn't lying. It was written in her eyes. She didn't love him.

Why knowing it was disheartening, he wondered. _It had been fifteen years, for God's sake, _his mind retorted. Fifteen years… Would he see her –like this- once again? Would they remain friends? For some reason he didn't want to losevher; to stop seeing her. It wasn't his helping drive this time; it was just that he wanted her close. He couldn't determine why; something -like an air of being in the right place- told him so. He just knew he needed it. He had to leave a good impression if he wanted get it.

Arnold redid the mental list: Miriam, more Henry if possible, her new nose, why she lied on Gerald' wedding… Luke… what else?

What did she do in her job in detail, how did she reach the top, how was that she earned Henry's trust… and _heart_? What she hid about…

"Hey," she came back at the same time the waiter did. Arnold stood as she took back her seat "Don't come all formal on me, Football Head." Arnold heart's hammered in his chest as she grinned to him. She turned to the man and talked to him in Spanish.

"_Por supuesto, señorita."_ The man replied and walked off. (Of course, ma'am)

"What was all that about?" he asked, taking a deep breath, forcing his heart to lessen up.

"I'm gonna pay the bill," she stated simply. Arnold opened his eyes and was about to complain but she shushed him "It's done, honey. I asked you to come. It's not a big deal."

"If you're so sure" _Honey?_

"I am"

"Next time is on me, then" he stated.

"Oh…" her lips curved up in that roguish smile so hers "There will be a next time, huh?"

"Of course there will be," Arnold leaned forward, boldly "Or you just planned on using me as a substitute for one single day?"

"Arnold…" she pretended sternness "You're doing that … Romeo thing again. It's not like you." She clicked her tongue.

"Is not?" She shook her head and took a sip of her mini cup of coffee, then pulled a face. "What do you know about the actual me? How do you know if I've also changed? Because, there are also a bunch of things that I see now and are not _Helgish_ at all, you know?"

"Really?" she asked amused

"Really,"

"Examples…"

"You're nice… and smile a lot"

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No, but it's not like you," he made a short pause "though I like it," she tilted her head taking the praise.

"As you said, people change. What else?"

"You look very different…"

"So do you, Football head. We're not thirteen and lanky anymore, thanks God for growing up! Other way we remain being those ugly little guys forever."

"You weren't ugly"

She scoffed

"What do you want? A raise? This soon? I'm the wrong person to ask that."

"I'm not trying to win your favor. That's simply the way I remember you"

"But you still didn't… how was it? -Like me- like me? - Jeez! It's been so long! I hadn't remembered that Lily girl in years!"

"Lila" Arnold corrected her.

"Lila! That's right! Little Miss Perfect! God! How long has it been?"

Arnold shrugged his shoulders

"Twenty years?"

"We're getting old" she whistled. "No wonder why it is all forgotten."

"Not everything is forgotten. You seem to remember you liked me-liked me,"

"Ouch!" she covered her face "Don't make me remember! It's so embarrassing. I was so crazy about you. - And I was so mean! I don't know how you did to put up with me"

"You weren't that bad"

Helga scoffed, turning her blue eyes to see him.

"I wasn't that bad? You always so nice. Thankfully you never got to know a bunch of things." she opened big her eyes

"Like what?

"Better don't ask. You wouldn't like to know it, anyway" she smirked. Arnold raised his brows.

"If you say so…" he looked at her; her mocking smile lightened her eyes as she looked at him. He swallowed. There was a thing he was trying to ignore so deliberately. She was hot. "What about your nose? Can you talk about it?" he asked swiftly; his sudden change didn't cause a big reaction on her.

"Why couldn't I?"

"I don't know. It's said that people don't like to talk about their-" he vacillated.

"-Surgeries?" she asked "I have no problem… but I don't know what to say…" she took another sip of her coffee, but before doing it her lips curved in a way that made her nose to stand out. Alright, it wasn't precisely her nose, -but that smile, -he knew it, only that the effect was too different now. She was gorgeous and she knew it. "I had an ugly nose. I didn't like it. I went to the surgeon; love the results. This is the real me. I felt I couldn't leave behind the old Helga if I didn't change it."

"The old Helga?"

"Yeah, you know, old, mean, bitter, Helga."

"That's other thing…" he paused. She prompted him to go on. "-that I've noticed…"

"What thing? – that I'm not a bitch anymore?"

"Well, I dare no say-"

"Come on, say it!" she grinned "Even if you refuse to say it I know what you mean, Football Head. I'm not the bitch I used to be, but that doesn't mean I am as sweet and pure as that Lila girl from our childhood. That would be boring." She leaned back on her seat and crossed her leg, and she went on speaking openly about herself "I guess I'm still a bitch to some extent, but I don't go for life making everybody's lives miserable as I used to do. People change. I changed for sure. How, when, I can't tell you with certitude; I just changed."

"Has it something to do with Henry?" he asked again, _tout de suite_.

"It surely has." He retreated to the back of his chair, surprised by her openness, thought he knew he shouldn't. He must have realized by now that it was part of her change. She was open, honest, frank, and he saw it since the night of the Ball. Another question to the list. "Why you look so surprised?" she grinned. "I already told you that I consider Henry invaluable. Meeting him is the best thing that ever happened to me."

"You sound like…"

"Like some kind of fanatic?" she smirked again, taking her handbag and pulling out a lipstick and a small heart shaped mirror "Maybe I am"

"Are we going now?" he checked the time on his cellphone again. Twelve before three.

"I have a meeting at three and a half at Madison Avenue… and I still have to reach the office to pick up some papers first." She covered her lips with a layer of soft tangerine; it made them to stand out. "Sorry."

"Don't be. I hadn't seen the watch. Time flies when you're having a good time"

"Amen,"

"So the bill is …"

"Paid. Yes, Arnold. But you can leave the tip if that makes you feel better." Arnold didn't vacillated and reached for his wallet "Don't be cheap"

Helga laughed at him as he struggled to guess how much he'd left from a bill he didn't know. Ten dollars? He showed her the note. She shrugged.

"A little over- rewarded but it's alright. Ruy is gonna love you."

_Just a little?_ Arnold shook his head; choosing not to ask. He followed her out of the place and then to the street.

"You didn't tell me about your mom," he asked once they reached the corner and turned right. Arnold almost shouted to be heard amongst the city's noises.

"What do you want to know about Miriam?" she shouted back, getting close to him so she bumped against his side. Arnold fought down a reaction. Her closeness made him nervous. Helga was a sophisticated and beautiful woman. Most of the passers turned their heads to look at her. It was kinda intimidating to be walking by her side.

"Mmmm…"

"Right now she must be at… Croatia… Romania… I don't know exactly. Last time I talked to her she was in Greece."

"So she travels, huh?"

"Yep. It's all what she lives for," she turned to give him a quick look. It was the closer that they have been so far. Arnold contained his breath. Her mouth was just inches apart from his. But then she turned ahead apparently without realizing his predicament. "But she comes to stay for a while between trips"

"Does she live with you?" after swallowing a lump he managed to ask.

"Nope. She lives in Upper West Side,"

"And you- Where do you live?" he asked. As expected she turned again, a smirk on her lips

"Why?" she was too close again; and her lips shone in the sunlight. Her eyelashes fanned up and down as her eyes took him in. Arnold could see the exact point where the mascara started to cover her blonde eyelashes. "Do you want to pay me a visit?"

"Maybe," he drew out a timid smile.

"A late visit?" her eyes sparkled. Arnold rendered wordless. "I live in Chelsea…" she shrugged "I'll give you my address some other time" she added as they stopped at a red light.

_So Downtown, huh? _ Arnold smirked wondering what Brenda and Claire would have to say about that.

"But I don't use to receive late visits, you know, unless I ask for them." Her voice became deeper.

"I would never do that,"

"I know…" she wrinkled her nose "besides, that girlfriend of yours seems to be pretty jealous"

"Claire?" he swallowed; still unable to think. "Yeah, sometimes she can be"

"Only sometimes?" Helga snorted. "If you say so"

"Why…? Was she rude towards you?"

"Well, I think there wasn't time for that. Though I know those glances,"

Arnold grunted. "I didn't realize…"

"Me neither, it was just a second. It was until Henry brought it out that I realized."

"Henry realized?" she nodded slightly "Was he jealous?"

"Because of you?" she raised her brows. He nodded. She shook her head. "Nope. Why?"

"He took you to the dance floor straightaway."

"Henry loves twist" she shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly and started to walk when the light changed. "That was… a weird night. Several odd things happened…" she cleared her throat "but Henry being jealous because of you wasn't one of them."

"Right,"

"I guess your girlfriend can claim the same, can't she?"

"Well," it was now Arnold turn to clear his throat "She's kinda jealous…"

"Are you going to tell her we met for lunch?

"I..." he trailed off.

She laughed freely "Don't tie yourself in knots, Arnold" she elbowed him slightly "I know relations aren't easy"

"Kind of…" she admitted. Arnold realized he had too much to think about this later, in the privacy of his bedroom, too much to unravel; because he wasn't going to get much more from Helga. He was an old acquaintance not a close friend. Despite she'd opened somewhat he knew he needed time and effort to win her friendship back… well, that if somewhere in time they were actually friends.

"I saw Lucca, your friend, at the elevator the other day. Does he work here?" he asked all of a sudden, surprising her.

"Lucca?" she frowned. Arnold was about to explain when she laughed "Oh - you mean Luke?" she nodded "He works at the bank located in Floor 18."

It was all. Arnold wanted to ask furthermore but didn't know how to do it without looking like a nosy creep.

"He's not my boyfriend, by the way. He's just a friend; a very good friend." She added.

"Oh"

"You heard the rumors or what?"

"Rumors?" he frowned, Helga let out a tired exhalation.

"People keep telling we're going to marry. He's guilty to some extent because he keeps saying it aloud. But that won't happen. And you shouldn't listen all that is being said around, Arnold."

"I haven't heard that!" Arnold complained. _Did she think he was into gossiping that badly?_

"Well, when you hear it you can say it's a lie."

"What I've actually heard is about you and Henry," she grumbled "But you already said that's yours and Henry's business."

"That's right." She said coldly. She turned to see him with a stern glance. "Any problem with that?"

'_Absolutely not'_ he should reply. Instead his mouth articulated.

"Why him?" Arnold slapped himself inwardly for being so incapable to stop himself.

They left the street and got into their building through the back entrance, and once reaching the elevator doors she stood facing him.

"Evidently that's something you'll never know."

"Look, -I'm so stupid. I shouldn't have asked that"

"You certainly shouldn't." her voice didn't show emotion.

"I'm sorry" She nodded, accepting his apologies.

The elevator came and they stepped into it. He pressed 26.

"Thanks for the invitation. I had a great time; it was great to catch up and… I want to apologize again for being that, well, idiot, but-"

"You were always like that,"

"Huh?" he frowned. _Idiot?_ That hurts.

"Nosy, I mean. Since we were kids -you were always butting into other people's affairs."

"I…"

"But it's alright." She exhaled "I also had a great time." She fixed her sight on him and Arnold couldn't help but look back into her eyes -so well-known and so unknown at the time. "Be careful, Arnold. Don't believe everything you heard. Don't say everything that's in your mind."

"Why are you telling me this?

"Because you're a good kid, but some people in here are not. Just be the man I know you are and you'll be alright. People like you are always well received everywhere. Mueller is a good place to be; I wish you would realize eventually." She turned to see the ascending movement of the lights behind the numbers but then looked back at him "And not; I'm not trying to indoctrinate you, by the way"

"How do you know I was thinking that?"

"I know that look," she smirked again. But then she leaned and hugged him quickly before the doors opened. "It's nice to have you here, Football Head" she let go and her smile was now genuine.

"I'm happy I came" he returned her smile, completely marveled by her deportment. She didn't lose her composure despite all his prying and nonsense. The doors opened and they stepped out.

"Hold the elevator!" she shouted. The doors of the internal elevator were closing when they reached it. Slowly, they opened to reveal a nervous-looking girl,- and an impatient-looking Dick.

"Thank you." Arnold smiled to the girl who smiled back, and looked relieved. She was a fellow lawyer working at Legal.

"Enjoyed your meal?" Dick asked to Helga as he observed her leaning against the rear wall.

"Very much, thank you." She looked up at him. An odd smile in her face "Yours, _Richard?_" she gave his name a German intonation.

"Spicy" he grumbled "It was Indian."

"Getting accustomed already?" she snickered. "I thought you'd said: Hell, no!"

The eyes of the man narrowed.

"You're so full of yourself," he mumbled in low voice; stepping forward as the elevator stopped when the tiny display read 28.

"That makes two of us" she flashed him a smile as the doors started to open. Dick turned around to look without interest at Arnold and the girl whose name he didn't know. Then he finally turned to the blonde and said as farewell.

"Helga,"

"Dick," Helga replied, also tilting her head.

After he left and the doors closed, the girl and Arnold released the breaths they were holding. No one dared to say a word. Helga seemed unfazed, looking critically at her manicure. The elevator opened again at floor 29.

"Well," he spoke before going out. "I guess I'll see you around."

"Yeah, I'll see you around, Arnold. Have a nice day." She smiled to him

Arnold nodded and went out. The doors closed and the elevator went up. Arnold walked down the aisle towards his desk.

"So it's true?" the blond boy turned to see the girl at his side. He frowned. "You're Helga Pataki's friend" she said, snappish "How long have you known her?"

"Since childhood" Arnold shrugged nonchalantly, ignoring her mood.

"She has always been that mean?" the girl asked again.

"Mean?" Arnold looked at her once more. So this one was another of the Helga-haters? There weren't too many, but there were several, nevertheless. Remembering the girl's reaction in the elevator Arnold asked as he reached his place.

"You're afraid of Dick or what?" The girl jolted; making a sudden halt.

"Of course not." She blushed, and then quickly she waved goodbye and disappeared.

Arnold frowned, seeing her go. He took his seat and started his pc. As he looked for the folder he'd been working before his lunch time, someone stopped by his side.

He turned up to see Daphne standing there.

"So…" she started "How was lunch with Miss Pataki?"

Arnold rolled his eyes. "You knew it?

"Oh, Arnold." She laughed "Everybody knows it." Arnold shook his head "So?" she insisted.

"It was nice." He shrugged his shoulders.

"That's it?" Daphne shook her head, looking at him as if he were depriving her of some pleasure.

"That's it." he turned back to his desk, ignoring her.

"You know, Giselle,-" she pointed to the elevator girl who was taking a seat down the aisle. "She doesn't fear Dick. She's actually crazy about him."

"Good for her." Arnold laughed. Raising his sight when the girl didn't react, or move either, he asked, still amused. "Has she any luck? With Dick, I mean?"

"As if Dick would ever look twice to any of us," she sneered. She reached for the empty chair in the next desk and sit down. "So, how was it? Did Helga tell you something juicy?"

"Jeez, Daphne." Arnold retorted, impatient. "You know I'm not-"

"Shortman!" Arnold straightened when Deb's voice reached him. Daphne flinched. She stood immediately and pulled the chair to its former position. "Look for Norman and reach me at our meeting room."

"Yes, ma'am."

Arnold couldn't help but smile seeing Daphne slipping away down the aisles.

Foul environment indeed.

. . .

* * *

**I don't own Hey Arnold!**

**I don't own Vogue, Helmsley, Messenger, Whatsapp or any other TM mentioned in here.**

**Only own this plot and the OC.**

**I'll come tomorrow to fix typos and horrors.**

**Thanks for reading and much more thanks to you who review and mark this or any other of my stories as favorites. Thanks for your reviews to CarlinJ83, Acosta Perez Jose Ramiro, Nep2uune, Toolazytologin and dyingXdasies. I apologize for the long waiting but I'll assure you I write all the time that is possible. Thank you all for your nice words and for let me know you're enjoying this.**

**November 17****th****, 2014.**

**See you soon.**


	10. Arnold Goes Up

**Rocket to the Moon **

**Chapter Ten **

**Arnold Goes Up**

* * *

. . .

A pair of brown eyes followed Arnold as he left Greg's office, folder in hand, and walked to his spot. The girl scoffed. '_There he was, the new favorite of the bosses'_. Deb and Greg were charmed by him; by his knowledge and his disposition. Daphne scoffed again when the young boy with short blond hair reached his desk and leaned in to search among his work.

It was incredible how the general perception of the boy had changed. He, who came to Mueller four months ago, a week after the rest of the newcomers, bringing along the ignominious fame of having quitted to his previous job because of outdated ideals, and who'd ended doing voluntary job at some point of his life, had turned the tables and it was obvious now that he was meant to bigger and better things. Arnold was now part of Deborah's closest circle; took part in the weekly meetings of the Department and did special work.

Rumor has it that his closeness to one of the senior executives and minor investor of he company has a lot to do with it, but Daphne knew better. She knew that if it were the case Arnold had made his move earlier. She also knew Helga Pataki didn't know he worked there but after a while; she had heard it from the blonde herself once she overheard her talking to Grace.

Daphne turned to see her coworker again, still searching in his desk. She kept her eyes on him, looking at him intently. Arnold wasn't that tall, but was well-built, though not that muscular. The greyish suit he wore fell tight in his arms which made obvious he worked out. He wasn't half bad, Daphne thought again, whistling inside her head, leaning back on her flexible seat to admire his back and bottom as he moved to go back to Greg's office.

At this pace he'd be in charge of a team really soon. His girlfriend would be so proud -she thought with disdain - Claire, such hypocrite. She acted as if she were the queen of the homeless; the most virtuous of the girlfriends but in reality she was a manipulative bitch. She never went her way without taking advantage of every situation she happens to meet.

She could be seen every now and then in the office because her business with the Social Assistance Department. Of course she came over to floor 29 too, to show everybody that the blond prodigy called Arnold was hers and only hers; and of course to take a look to the surroundings and absorb everything she could, something that never seemed to be enough.

Daphne grunted then. How she'd wish her lucky star would wane; that Arnold would meet another girl and dump her but no such luck. Arnold seemed immune to the charms of the prettiest girls around and his only soft spot seemed to be Helga who could also be seen coming to visit him at his workplace now and again. But Helga wasn't interested in him. Helga was the soft spot of a bunch of the males around, Henry's included. The old boss who was always demanding her attention even when there were more people around.

The young lawyer used to despise bitches in general. Everywhere she went there were always such specimens around. The office was not the exception. But she knew there were '_bitches_' and '_Bitches'_, and Helga was amongst the latter. Not anyone could go from being a simply assistant to the C-Suite in a lustrum, let alone to steal the boss's heart. No, Helga was not 'a _bitch'_, but _'The Bitch'_, someone worthy to imitation. She was admired and hated at the same time. Men looked at her with admiration and respected her because her brain, her wit and her looks; and girls… girls were more complicated…

Girls admired her because the power she had; because the place she had earned by her own means, and because - all in all - her congeniality. But they also hated her and the reasons behind it were more diverse.

They hated her because a successful woman was always hated. They hated her because she was evil - or how else could she be called when she was accepting Henry's attentions now when late Mrs. Mueller had loved her like a daughter? That was immoral. But that wasn't all…

Incredibly, the reason behind the main amount of hatred came from girls who hated her because she was a pain in Dick' ass; and Dick's ass was one of the most admired and desired things in the whole building and in much of Midtown.

Daphne shook her head. Sometimes her mind just couldn't process this all. Alright, she admitted that accepting Henry's attentions when you were in close acquaintance with his deceased wife was wicked; but she also understood that Henry was alive and was a man with needs; a man still handsome and extremely rich. She couldn't blame Helga when she, as most of women, would act the same. Those were just too many qualities in a man to be ignored. So many that you could easily disregard defects such as a deceased wife, his age and a more than possible his lack of _liveliness_ in bed. It was her choice after all; her choice and the choice of some other women who shared his bed, if rumors were true.

Talking about weird, Daphne rolled her eyes.

And regarding Dick, well, much to his chagrin, he has to live with it; with the constant risk that Helga's existence meant to his future. He should beg to the heavens that Helga wouldn't get pregnant with Henry's child or he had to say goodbye not only to his hopes to be his successor but also his heir. _Poor Dick_, the girl thought, the young man didn't have it easy.

Talking about Dick, Daphne had to admit that despite the disdain displayed she wasn't completely immune to his charms, but to say the truth she kinda feared him. She admitted he was handsome, although the definition of handsome didn't fit him quite right. He was tall, lean, fit, but his presence was more ominous than pleasant. His charms came more from his latent masculinity than from his handsomeness.

'_I just see Dick and my estrogen goes wild. I can't think straight.' _used to say Nadia, the girl who sat beside her. Daphne replied with a sneer '_Good thing you don't see his dick or you'll be lost.'_ Nadia blushed then and laughed nervously.

Daphne was sure Nadia wasn't the only one who reacted that way to _The Heir's_ closeness. She had witnessed a bunch of girls blushing madly in his presence, giggling like stupid teenagers, something that the aforementioned young man used to disregard, yet sometimes he seemed to have fun at their expense; to enjoy seeing their predicament, to stir it, but that was all. Dick never went out with an employee. His dates used to be people from outside; extremely attractive young women customarily; wealthy girls of course.

Daphne turned to see her coworker again as he left the room, went to his desk where he rummaged for a while. Finally he straightened, picked up a pile of folders and began to move again, towards her, in his way to the staircase. The girl turned to her own paperwork as the blond boy came close, and then raised her sight casually. He smiled to her and she smiled back politely; then he walked on to the end of the corridor, opened the door and disappeared behind it. He was surely going up to see the boss of them.

* * *

X X X

Arnold pushed the door and met the red and black layout that he'd come to know from heart. A Meeting Room was first door at right; then Deb's office, Helga's, Henry's, which was situated at the bottom; the Boardroom was next, to the left; then Dick's Office. There was a lounge; the coffee room and a storage room, all circling the hall where the secretaries were located.

It's been four months he'd be working for Mueller and he could say he was happy. Turned out that Helga had been right; Mueller was a good place to be in spite all that gossiping. He only knew he had to be careful, people were always watching. He'd just witnessed Daphne doing what she did the best right before leaving floor 29.

Arnold greeted the girls and smiled to Deb's secretary when he passed by her desk.

"Deb is in Dick's office," she uttered before he knocked the door "But you can come in and wait inside."

"Thank you," Arnold nodded, going ahead, but then made a halt and turned around "I thought Dick was in Brazil"

"He came back last night," the woman informed "But I'm afraid he's traveling again." She opened her eyes and let out an apologetic smile. "As soon as next week."

"To India?" Arnold asked, remembering Helga's unveiled jeering all those months ago.

"Yeah, to India." She confirmed with an intone that almost said: '_Poor Dick,'_ at the end.

'_Poor Dick indeed'_ Arnold thought.

As little as his work has to do with Dick's -or Helga's in any case- he could tell the senior executives didn't have it easy. Even Deb's workload was intense, and she didn't have to travel half of the time as her pairs did. Her work consisted in attending to the courts and protecting Mueller Enterprises by preventing troubles of any kind. But Helga and Dick traveled a lot to keep the company working at its upmost; they probably spent more nights in hotel rooms than in their own beds. Helga had been out most of last month and had just come back last week. Dick spent the last three weeks in Brazil. Now he was heading to India for probably a similar amount of time.

If he didn't know better, at his beginnings at Mueller Arnold might suspect that people just happened to be around, but now he was more aware of the job they did and of the happenings of the enterprise in general.

For starters, Mueller had bought two of the three companies proposed by Helga last May. Dick and his team were traveling to take them over. Helga had already done it, financially speaking. Now Helga toured as in her ordinary trips to keep the control of the empire - so she had told him herself - giving capital importance to the hotspots of the Conglomerate; making act of presence so people around the world have fresh in their minds they had a boss who expected the best from them.

Dick, in other hand, went out to take control of the new possessions; his team was more pushing. Arnold imagined that people abroad saw them as a horde of wild, blond Saxons that came to overwhelm and engulf the world as they knew it.

Truth was that little difference from old tales those trips ensued. He actually came to subjugate, cut heads off, and put a new manager; a satellite consul; someone loyal to him. Then he saw what they were doing, how they did it and changed everything that was necessary to be changed from his point of view.

Seen from afar, it actually looked like some kind of terrorism. Arnold had seen those situations happening before; the fear and instability caused when a company changed owners. It must be something difficult to deal with, but Dick and his team seemed to enjoy it.

Arnold sat down at the desk and put his papers on the table; checking them up, making sure the reports were complete. Deb seemed satisfied with his progress and Arnold himself felt good. He knew Greg also like him. He exhaled.

.

His thoughts were back to the call he'd received earlier from the HR Department. The chief had called him directly, asking for an appointment at 4:45. Arnold frowned. He had no idea why they needed to see him. He didn't want to get worried, but… Was he in problems? It was something to do with his papers? Had they got a bad reference about him, from his previous job?

Even when he knew there was no point in worrying he couldn't help it. He really felt at ease in here; was getting to love his job; there was nothing unethical in the kind of work he was doing - even when everything was about money and growing in the end.

.

"_What's wrong about everything being 'money' in the end?" Helga had asked once she invited him to her office; they have run into each other in Floor 30. "This is an enterprise after all, Arnold. Despite all the pretty philosophies out there the purpose of its creation is to maximize the benefits." _

"_Well, when you think about the amount of money that an enterprise like this manages you can't help but think that it is… indecent."_

"_Indecent?!" she'd cracked a laugh "And you blush when you say it?" she looked at him with amusement "Mueller is nothing compared with other corporations out there, Arnold; we're less than a flea. There are thousands of firms bigger than us. And I wonder why you –or anyone - expect us to feel shame because we are productive, because we earn money? Lots of money, by the way. We also create jobs. Do you also expect we feel shame because we create jobs? There are over seventy thousands persons around the world who work in a company with the M from Mueller in their labels and front doors? I mean seventy thousands of direct employs. Those are thousands of mothers, fathers, girls and boys like you to whom Mueller provides with a job that let them have 'decent' lives."_

"_But it's too much money for a small group of persons?_

"_Which small group of persons?" she derided "The seventy-four thousands of employees?_

"_No! Not the employees – the owners!"_

"_The owners, huh? Do you have idea how many owners are you talking about?_

"_Well, Henry, Dick, you and a couple of others…"_

"_Why are we talking about this?" she asked aloud and exhaled "There are not 'a couple of others'…. There are… let's see," she started to count with her fingers. "It's Henry… Jerry, Glen… then Brenda, Fred and Mathias and his brother who are not part of the Counsel, then Dick and me… the Charles Family…the Monroe Family, The Lowes, - and then the hundreds of stockholders who don't have an identifiable face…"_

"_Okay, I get it" he raised his hands, "Still is a small bunch of people"_

_Helga rolled her eyes_

"_We donate a good part of what we win…"_

"_How much? Some thousands that help to buy glasses at a scholar district?"_

_Helga smirked but her eyes observed him with something that looked like pity._

"_I guess I can't remove from your mind your prejudices," she exhaled "but you're putting yourself to shame, Arnold."_

"_Myself?" he retorted with scorn._

"_Yourself, indeed.… But don't worry" she winked "Soon enough there will be a foundation who would be owner too. We'd be good then? We'd reach your forgiveness?"_

"_How did you become a shareholder?" he had ignored her joke._

_Her sight turned curious then._

"_Sometimes you look so much like the old you, like that stubborn, obstinate kid…" _

_Arnold frowned. He had already realized. He was becoming his old self. He didn't know why, but from the day he'd met Helga for lunch a lot of the old Arnold had surfaced. In some aspects he felt like a kid again; stubborn, fearless, with the heart full of emotion and anticipation. He hadn't felt that way in ages. He'd wondered if it has anything to do with Helga being close again, because, without considerations to whatever he'd think when he saw her again, this Helga was the old Helga, the one who was always challenging him, the one who disdained his achievements and beliefs, the one who made him feel inadequate, even when she hadn't said a word, and acted all collected, and the most she indulged was looking at him –like right now - with commiseration. _

_Because if he was going to be sincere he must admit that it was him who tasted her patience with all those absurd questionings; and she never lost her good bearings despite that he was actually showing his prejudices and a moral grandness that didn't correspond to him. _

"_You're not going to make me feel guilty for being who I am, Arnold; for having a better life than most of people. I worked hard and I earned it. I took risks, and got bumps and rewards alike…"_

_Arnold had scoffed back then, but as the days went by he learned that she was right. Seeing her, or Henry by all means, or Deb, making things their way he realized Helga had a point. It wasn't the same reward to them all. It'd be unfair. If the risks Henry took were bigger it was only logical to expect that his rewards -or fails- were proportional. He himself was a living proof of that; he was a committed student, and had been a diligent employee too. He had deserved the honors and recognitions he had received in his career, honors that other students or employees hadn't. And there was no shame in that. Why it was so hard to accept? People who thought big, who took risks, who put more effort, obtained better prizes. Their pride was justified. Why people questioned them? __They were in the line of fire. __There was no shame in that._

_Some faces came to his mind then. His teachers, his ex-bosses, politics, public personalities, Mr. President, Assange, Mother Teresa… Henry… sneaking his arm to Helga's waist…_

"Arnold - you're here!" Deb's voice drew Arnold out of his contemplation. He fought back a shaking of his head, and the swirl of emotions inside his stomach.

"Yep. I'm afraid I came up earlier,"

"Nah, you were right." She dismissed his words "Meeting Dick wasn't in my schedule. What make me think that you're actually quite on time…" she muttered but then stopped. Arnold didn't ask anymore. He was already used to her incomprehensible mumblings. He went on showing her the advances in the cases they have been working lately.

Arnold realized that as they checked every file she was putting them aside instead of giving them back to him as she used to do. He frowned; her action brought back his upcoming appointment with HR in floor 26. It felt unpromising now. He wondered if he should ask her about it. Or should he go looking for Helga for information?

Helga… this morning she looked gorgeous in a white dress that turned all heads in her direction. It was just a dress. It didn't have low cleavage, or was too short either. It was just she and her dress. She looked proficient, she looked beautiful, happy… she looked satisfied.

Arnold saw Deb nodding as she read his report in the last file.

"Alright," she uttered too ceremoniously to Arnold taste when she closed the file and put it on top of the pile. "You're not in charge of this anymore. Let's talk about your future."

Arnold's blood went to his feet. He was sure he paled visibly.

"My future?" he let out a weak laugh. "Are you going to fire me?" he added, trying to show casualness

"_Fire you_?!" Deb raised her brows, surprised "Why I'd do that?"

"Human Resources called me…"

"Oh - that?" she scoffed, then shook her head dismissively "No, that's a… _formalism_. It's not my business though. I can't talk about that. You have to wait to meet Frank…?"

"Why you can't tell me?"

"Because it contains some… aspects that only compete to Human Resources." She looked at him intently "Are you worried?" she asked "because you need not fear. Your position in the enterprise is not compromised…"

"Are you sure?" he leaned in "I mean, if the enterprise doesn't need me I…"

"That's not the case, Arnold. It's something else. I admit I was required too…. And I realize it might affect you to some extent; affect your…." She cut herself off "I better stop. I'm not allowed." She exhaled "Instead, I am going to tell you…"

"Is it that serious?"

"Incredibly, things like these necessarily are."

"It has something to do with Helga?"

"With Helga? … Not at all" she frowned, searching his face with interest "You have nothing to do with Helga, do you?" a mocking smile appeared in her face "Your… thing… was kid stuff, right?"

"There was no… _our thing_" Arnold replied with a scoff, hiding his sight from her.

"Oh, right. It was Helga who was crazy about you, right? Not the other way around."

"I…"

"Don't worry" she shrugged her shoulders, turning to her desk again and opening one of her own folders. A small smile still graced her features. "It has nothing to do with Helga. And being that's none of my business I say no more." She paused "But this, in fact, is my business and I'm afraid we have to go without you for a while…" _'You what?'_ Arnold wanted to ask but Deb went on without stopping. "You have a couple of days to get ready. I need you up to date to the last policies and regulations because next week you're going to India."

"With Dick?" Deb nodded. "What about Ralph?"

"You know Ralph just came back from Brazil," Arnold nodded. "He asked for permission. It's seems he's having… problems that are not our business." She looked at him "You told me you have no trouble with traveling, right?"

"Ye… yeah, of course" he nodded.

"Right. I hope your girlfriend is sympathetic." Deb smirked

"It shouldn't be a problem." Arnold assured her.

"I hope so." She exhaled "Well, you know the library is in Floor 28, by the Meeting Room. I think everything you need is over there, if not, you can ask me or Purchasing Department for whatever you need. I'll tell Dick right now it'd be you. Dick uses to… discuss strategies beforehand. You need to be present at his meetings to take notes and prevent surprises; to know what is all about and… I think that's all." Deb ended her swift speech with a long inhalation.

"What is my mission in the team?" Arnold had an idea already but wanted to get things straight before embarking on this adventure.

"Consultant, advisor. Dick proposes his plan. You tell him what is right, what is not, and what could be done to fix the don'ts. That's mostly your work in there."

"You can do that to Dick?" Arnold asked with a cautious smile.

Deb let out a laugh "Of course you can. Dick is not the ogre you all presume. You just need…" she paused, leaning back in her chair and looking up to the roof "Look… Dick is… "

"Difficult?"

"I'd say _special_. My advice is that you to plant your feet firmly on the ground and don't let yourself feel intimidated. Be concise, don't falter and he'll understand. I trust you."

"He'll _understand_?" Arnold raised his brow.

"You're a smart man, Arnold. Dick is a smart man too. I can't find another way to describe him… You men have your own codes… I don't know which other advice give to you without stepping too much into his… personal… _stuff_. You're right. Dick can be difficult, but it depends on you to keep things working."

"Only on me? It's not his responsibility too?"

"I know what I'm telling you seems to be a huge responsibility but it's not the big deal. I don't want you predisposed against him because it won't work. I trust you. I've seen the way you deal with people in here. You dealt with Helga, who can also be difficult, in the past. You're polite and patient..."

"And Dick is abrasive."

She paused.

"I'll quote Henry here. '_Dick is a dick, but he's our Dick'_…. He's our Dick, Arnold. He'll do the right thing."

'_He'll do the right thing…' _

"Easy then!" Arnold said, maybe too expressively, standing on his feet "I always try to do the right thing too."

"I'm sure you do." Deb nodded as goodbye and then added. "Good luck with your girlfriend tonight!"

"Yeah, Thanks" Arnold closed the door remembering he was going to release the news of his travel tonight. At least he wasn't going to travel with Helga or he'd really need it. With a dreading feeling in his stomach, Arnold made up his mind and instead of walking to the stairs he walked down the hallway towards the door that was labeled after Helga. He was in need of a little bit of sweetness after the news he'd just received. He'll be working with Dick, and HR wanted to see him.

'_Come on Arnold old boy, you can do it. It'd be a piece of cake.' _

Seeing that there was no secretary at her post, he walked on, emboldened, and knocked the door; a muffled '_come in'_ came from the interior. Arnold turned the knob, already visualizing a beautiful blonde in a white dress who was expecting him with a big smile and arms ready to wrap him in a fresh perfume.

"Arnold!" Helga exclaimed. Arnold froze.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't know you were busy. Your secretary is not here so I thought…"

"Oh- look who's here! It's your little friend!" Henry stood from his spot in the sofa and extended his hand to help Helga on her feet too. They have been close; way too close to be casual. Arnold was still petrified to be able to speak and remained there, seeing their interchange "I'm glad you keep your friends close, Edelweiss."

"I always do." Helga answered with the giggle of a little girl, turning her face up to meet Henry's. The man gave a soft kiss in the tip of her nose and Arnold turned around. He didn't want to see.

"I guess… I'll come another time." He found his voice finally.

"Nonsense," Henry spoke cheerful "I was about to leave anyway." He turned to Helga. "So you'll be here when I come back, right?"

She nodded. "I'll be here. I have a lot of think to do. But you should call me so I have the car ready."

"I don't like you driving"

"But I love to drive. Now go - I want to talk to Arnold."

"Well, Arnold," Henry turned to him; a jovial smile in his face. Arnold hadn't seen him this close in a while. It was true that he looked younger than seventy five. His light grey suit was as well-cut as always. That gentle smile was so ambiguous that looked threatening to Arnold eyes. "She's all yours." He said. Arnold wondered if his blue eyes shone with amusement when he spoke. He nodded and mumbled something that wouldn't remember a minute later when Henry was gone.

"So," Arnold was still seeing the black door when Helga spoke. He turned to see as she sat down behind the desk, crossed her legs and leaned back in her comfortable chair, a finger touching her tangerine colored lips that smirked playfully. Arnold gulped. It was a spectacular sight. "What's up, doc?"

* * *

**I don't own Hey Arnold! Craig Bartlett and Viacom do it. I don't own any other TM mentioned here.  
**

**I'll come back tomorrow to fix typos. It's midnight here but this should be posted on November 30. Sorry for the delay.**

**Thanks to the readers and all my love to those who review: CarlinJ83, Raven Granger, Nep2uune and Jose Ramiro. You guys are so good for me, really! **

**December 2, 2014.**


	11. I Need a Book

**Rocket to the Moon**

**Chapter Eleven**

**I Need a Book**

* * *

. . .

**AN.** I feel the need to warn you that this will be a story that will take its time to develop the romantic affair. Or perhaps I should tell that more than a love story this is the story of a well-intended man in his thirties who is going through a transformation. He's making changes, some of them at such internal level that he's not aware; some other he perceives, but all of them would end changing him for good. He's a man who has been following what he thought was his planned path in life but in reality he was just numbly letting himself go with the flow. Now he's facing a crossroad. He's going to be confronted with a new way to see life; a new way to live it.

The lector might not agree with what is presented here; it's not the author vision either, not completely. It just happens to be the story that I want to tell. I'd love to have you all along the road and enjoy it. This is only a fic made up as an exercise of imagination and posted with no other intention than entertain.

* * *

. . .

He knocked the door three times. 'Meeting Room' read the white letters labeled in the wood. Arnold drew in as he waited.

"What?" a guy with a big nose opened it slightly; Arnold thought he hadn't seen him before. The bloke looked at him up and down, somewhat unfriendly.

"Shortman…" Arnold introduced himself. Seeing the confusion in the man's sight he added "I come from Legal." The guy nodded then and took a step back.

"So you're taking Ralph's place?" Arnold nodded. The door opened widely "Marty Fisher," the guy introduced himself, speaking in low voice "What was the name again?"

"Shortman… Arnold Shortman" after nodding again he beckoned him in and put a finger on his lips. Arnold entered to the place not knowing what he was going to find inside.

It was an ample room with two windows that bathed the place with sunlight. There were two persons sitting at a meeting table facing the screen perched on the wall. The screen showed a man in his late thirties talking to the couple of guys in here who were most probably interviewing him. Arnold remained behind.

The first guy was someone from Human Resources; Arnold knew him by sight. The second man was Stan Wright, Operations Vicepresident and Dick's right hand man. Dick himself was seated at Stan's right, but he remained slightly behind so he couldn't be seen by the man in the screen. The rest of the men in the room, four more guys, were seated or standing out of sight too. Following Marty's indication Arnold took one of the seats that had been pushed away from the table. Marty mouthed 'Legal' when someone turned to see the newcomer.

Arnold leaned back in the confortable chair watching the interview with interest. The man in the screen had a strong Indian accent and exotic features. Arnold soon realized he was an aspirant for the post of General Manager in the new manufactory. He was listing his experience and answering the questions that both man asked. Arnold also realized Dick was leaning back in his chair while writing in a clipboard; raising his sight every once in a while to pay attention to the interaction.

It was the first time Arnold was this close to the group of men who were in charge of the operation of the entire company. Operations distinctive characteristic was that the Department was what could be vernacularly called a '_sausage fest'_. There were practically no women in the section. Probably Dick and Stan's secretaries were the only two women in the entire Department.

Watching closely the men whose attention was fixed on the screen, Arnold started to tell one from another. He saw then that not all of them were tall and burly as they looked from afar, when you saw them as a bunch. In fact, only Stan and another man with dark brown hair were tall and beefy. The rest of them weren't that big. There was one who was shorter than himself even. They were two blonds, a ginger head, a shaved head, and three dark haired men. All of them were in their thirties, early forties maybe. All of them looked so normal and inoffensive right now.

Marty was the one of the dark haired men. To tell the truth Arnold didn't know what was the role performed by every one of them in the group. What Arnold realized though, was that all of them dressed well. Gerald would approve their looks in a blink; mainly the one of Mike Davis, the proclaimed Most Handsome Man in the office. Mike was a tall African American man with an impressive physique and whose flirtatious smile melted most of the girl hearts...

_Hmpf! _– Arnold cleared his throat realizing he sounded like a girl. Those were _Not His Words! _That happened to be what he actually heard or saw around. His spot in the office was easily reached by voices of all kind and sources. "_Jeez, Football Head!"... _He grunted again. Sometimes the inner voice in his head sounded like Helga's.

Like Helga.

* * *

. . .

They had had another interesting chat during his visit the day of his 'promotion', once Henry had gone. She congratulated him, of course, and made him recall she'd already told him it was matter of time that it happened.

She didn't lecture him about Dick. _'He's just another guy'_. But she did ask him if he felt more comfortable with his job now.

He felt indeed more comfortable now, _despite everything was about money and growing_. But he didn't let her know. So he continued complaining about the exaggerated capitalism and greed of the enterprises - like this one- and she couldn't help but rebut his points of view. She dismissed his doubts with passion. _'You're already here, Football Head. Take advantage of the experience. Must be a reason for it. So go and make your best'. _And at the time she refuted his principles she talked about her job, her beliefs and her past. Probably inadvertently, but she talked about her life.

She told him of the times when she sold his father company. In sight of Mueller's great interest for the stores she asked twice its price. No cash. She wanted participation with him. After some complaining and even more negotiating, Henry agreed. When Helga signed the deal Miriam, Olga and she were the owners of the two percent of the value of Mueller Enterprises which was by far above the value of Big Bob Stores by itself. Helga was in charge and even when she hasn't the right to vote in the Counsel she still had some power. Nowadays the Patakis' wealth had reassessed several times its original value.

It was true that Helga was once Henry's personal assistant. But it was also true that she originally accepted the position only while she waited for the next semester to start at Columbia's. But as Helga got to know Mueller management and felt more comfortable with her job, her interest to go back to school was put aside and she remained in the company. Soon enough her position as Henry's assistant fell short and she had to move to positions with more responsibilities at the time that she came in close contact with the family. She actually lived with Henry and his wife for a while; when they moved to NY. It was also true that Mrs. Mueller loved her as a daughter.

When Miriam finally got out of rehab, for good, the two of them moved to the apartment Helga had bought in Upper West Side. When Miriam was independent again Helga moved to one of Mrs. Mueller properties in the City to finally live by herself. When Henry's wife died, victim of pancreatic cancer, she remembered her 'adopted' daughter in her will by leaving the property to her.

It seemed that Helga had had luck and a good life. It seemed that she had found some fairy Godparents and had a dream life, he thought as he saw her talking about her struggles later; when Henry finally let on her and Dick the control of the company and he stayed behind.

Arnold was old and wise enough to know that no dream life came by itself; meaning no effort to those who were lucky enough to be reached by it. When such thing happened, -fortune, without merit- it usually ended going eventually away.

But Helga had worked hard for the fortune to remain glued to her. She had finally gotten a degree in finances, if on-line, and had worked without fear day after day until reaching the seat she occupied now. Arnold could tell she wasn't lying. He knew her well enough to know all what she said was true, although he'd add luck was an important factor. Then a given day, when she was already the head of Finances, Henry left the taking of important decisions on her hands. He refused to give his consent or refusal like before; no advices or guidance anymore. She confided Arnold all the things that reached her mind; how her certitudes and insecurities surfaced to complicate everything. And the reasoning that led her to the way she acted at the end.

Her reasoning? Just do it. Walk on. Take a leap of faith and trust that you just made the right choice.

.

'_There are no such things as good or bad choices honey,'_ Henry had told her later _'in the end they are only experiences.'_

"Experiences that make you to earn or lose money" she had added, judicious "Money that is not yours…"

As time went by she had learned that experiences created reputations; and even when she had had successes she had also had her share of fails, but her balance was still positive because her feats had been the most.

"And my fails haven't been that bad, you know? It's only that they weren't the big shit." She added in the purest Helga Pataki's way: somewhat rudely, somewhat proudly.

But she probably has every right to be proud. She has a compromise with the company she worked for. She loved it. She fought for it every single day. She fought even against her own co-owners.

Arnold understood now why she was so annoyed back at the scene he witnessed in the Boardroom, when she complained because Dick questioned her methods. It made her angry because her choices involved loads of work. To know the numbers of given enterprise wasn't the job of a weekend or a month; it was the job of years assessing the ups and downs; risks and advantages; possibilities and projections; they were intuitions. The enterprises she put on the table last spring were under close observation for years. Dick asked her to explain this long and strenuous process in the meeting; as if they were talking about the process to make some popcorn!

Arnold frowned. Maybe Dick's real intention wasn't her explaining the process but her having a bad time. When he told her so she snorted and let him know she already knew it; and already knew what his real intention was. What '_their'_ real intention was, in fact, because Dick had a plan and an accomplice. When Arnold showed his worry –and his curiosity- she told him to drop it because she had years dealing with Dick's 'devious' plots and they never got to hurt her. She had everything under control.

And Arnold believed her. She looked so strong; so sure of herself. Her lucky star should be a really big one because she seemed indestructible.

Observing her form as she got up and walked around Arnold couldn't help but admit he was smitten; Helga had him captivated. If she was aware or not of his condition he couldn't tell. Sometimes he'd bet she knew and acted upon it on purpose, like right now: walking up and down her office; showing off her curves, her beauty. Some other times, she was totally immersed in her own things that she simply ignored his presence and let him begging inwardly for a little bit of attention. All in all, Arnold knew it wasn't only her physique what attracted him; it was all of her. Her demeanor, her sense of humor, her voice; the power she had; the reactions she caused around. The way she made him feel.

How had this happened? He was totally obsessed over her. He managed to raise his sight to look over his cubicle wall every time the elevator doors opened. He leaned back in his chair whenever he heard her voice in the other side of the floor. He looked for her every time that he got out of his floor, in every corner; each time he went to Floor 30; every time he stepped into the elevator; every time he got out of it. When she wasn't in town everything looked dull; the clock ticked slower; the day lost its significance.

Arnold sighed. He wasn't in love with her. It was just an infatuation; an obsession that filled his time and life. It was like a perverted entertaining; one that led him to misbehave in a way that was utterly unlike him but that at the same time satisfied the unending hunger to know everything about her. To know what did she think when she was silent, in his presence; what did she think when she wasn't; what did she say when she was with Henry, with Deb, with Dick, with the rest of people. The way she acted; the way her eyes looked at them; the way she smiled…

God, he was crazy! He exhaled.

At least not a thing about this unspeakable new vice of him watching her was known around… yet. He needed to be careful and he was. Deb was the only one who could be aware; but Arnold had already checked out that Deb suspicions had everything to do with their past history and nothing with the present. He felt reassured.

The other person who could suspect a thing was Claire. Fortunately she had been so busy lately that she didn't pay attention to him anymore; well other than her usual possessiveness or her over watchfulness when he talked too much about a certain somebody. But he had learned to keep his excitement at bay; to minimize any of the mordant commentaries that followed anything that had to do with Helga.

He had already told her he had had lunch with her. Helga had asked him and he couldn't refuse. He told her the details of the encounter because it'd be odd if he didn't, though he didn't elaborate that much; not the way he felt, at least. He told her she was in love.

Why he told her such thing?

Because it kept Claire reassured. Also because it seemed true.

But now, weeks and weeks later, he didn't know what to think anymore.

Two days ago, at her office, she'd received a call. She stood and walked away to answer it, quietly. She told to whomever on the other side of the line she was busy tonight; that she was attending to a reunion with Henry; that he already know Henry was always priority...

Everybody knew that. Henry was always her priority. But there was someone else. Arnold couldn't believe his ears. Was Helga a cheater?

Who could it be? By the way she spoke it seemed that the other guy was a stranger, someone from outside. What wasn't clear was if she lamented her choice; she was kinda mean to him. Two days later and Arnold had already come to the conclusion that there was no point in trying to guess who the guy was. He had wondered a hundred of times. But he didn't know all of her friends and acquaintances, let alone boyfriends. But…

_How she had a boyfriend when she was with Henry?_

He had asked her. Again. And snorted and rolled her eyes. Again. _'Don't be a prune.'_ She said, annoyed; and told him to go and mind his own business. And she meant it.

Because then she asked him about Claire. And warned him to be ready.

_'What for?'_ He would ask.

_'Human Resources upcoming meeting, my friend'._

'_Good Luck with your girlfriend tonight'_. He remembered Deb's words then. The meeting wasn't the problem. Dealing with Claire was.

How was it that them both anticipated Claire's reaction? Was their relation that easy to read?

Women!

It turned out that there was a conflict of interests related to the support they offered to Claire. Only one of them could stay and it'd be him. An hour later they talked to Claire and Brenda. The next couple of hours were spent in expectant silence until they arrived home; then Claire threw a fit that exacerbated when she knew he was going to leave town ' when _she most needed him'_. Arnold didn't know what to do. It was a nightmare.

Fortunately Brenda arrived. Arnold decided to go out for a while. He knew it had to be something hard to deal, the withdrawal of the funding. He'd decided he'd be nice; it wasn't only about him after all. When he was back Claire was calmed and composed; kindly offered him a cup of tea. She said she enjoyed the support as it lasted, and that she knew everything was for the greatest good. She congratulated him; said she was proud of him. And that was it.

She was a lively partner in bed that night, not that he expected her. She also was last night. Arnold didn't know what to think; to say he was confused fell short. She had been acting strange: being extremely supportive and smiling a lot, like a Stepford wife; and it was upsetting. Arnold became wary. He felt the impulse to look for a hidden bug, a camera or a complot against him but he knew it'd be insane. He didn't know what was going on in his girlfriend's mind anymore.

Women!

He found himself looking forward for a few weeks apart.

* * *

. . .

Something brought back Arnold's attention to the man on the screen. He was hesitating. Stan has Dick's clipboard in his hands now and his sight was fixed in the man as he spoke, or tried to.

How long it had been since his contemplation started. It couldn't be too long; it was the same man in the screen after all. How long an interview took? He turned to see his watch and realized they have hardly been ten minutes.

That was the mind's speed? Ten minutes to recall so many experiences? To relive them?

He turned around. Dick was getting up, leaning towards Stan as he mumbled something, being careful to remain out of camera shot. His expression was one of dismissiveness. Stan nodded. Then Dick left the table and got close to them.

"What a waste of time," Marty said as he approached. Dick snorted.

"Are you complaining? You just came in. We've been here the entire morning."

"Anything good?"

Dick nodded.

"Yeah, one - maybe two guys. One of them, Nirav… Something," he shrugged his shoulders "We'll see. For now I want you to be ready. We need to see the preliminaries before lunch or Stan will get pissed." The guys chuckled. Dick focused on Arnold "I guess you are Deb's guy, right?"

Arnold nodded

"Arnold Shortman" Arnold hesitated about extending his hand or not. The group seemed rather informal. He did nothing in the end.

"Alright Mr. Shortman," Dick looked at him and drew a wry smile on his face. "Deb says you're like a bookmobile. Let's see if a bookmobile is what we need."

"I hope you are nothing like Ralph." One of the guys said.

"Don't let us down." Another added. The rest of them chortled.

Arnold frowned

"Why you say that? Was Ralph a problem?"

"Let's say his girl hates our guts." Mike replied. His words brought a ripple of laugher which earned them an annoyed glare from Stan.

"Cut it off!" Dick said to the big guy, not too quietly this time. Stan glowered at him. Dick snorted making a gesture of obviousness that made everyone go silent. "Are you going to hire him? Because I'm not." He added.

Someone else said it was a waste of time. In sight of the thick atmosphere the RH man started to set the interview to an ending as Arnold realized that the group interaction orbited around Dick. He was the one who set the orders; he was the one who set the times. Arnold had already supposed it but he didn't think he'd see it this sound and clear. In no time the interview ended. Someone went to turn off the screen and the camera. Stan left the table and stomped towards them like an angry bull.

"You can't just cut it off," he started, addressing Dick.

"You were losing your time," Dick replied as he walked to the table, ignoring his belligerence "If you know we're not going to hire him just stop it. Don't let the guy harbor hopes. That's cruel."

"Cruel?!" Stan snorted "Cutting him off when he's talking is not cruel?"

"He is not our man and you knew it from the beginning."

"Alright, that was not our man but I can't just turn the screen off. There's a protocol."

"It's already done." Dick remarked, turning around to point out the now black screen.

Everyone else went to take their positions around the table. Marty signaled Arnold seat. There was a moment when Arnold wondered if this kind of scenes were usual. He saw Stan hesitating watching Dick taking his seat and starting his speech. Arnold was expectant, watching for the stressful scene to develop or to dissolve.

"Let's get to work. We have less than an hour to overview the situation before everyone gets grumpy."

Stan finally turned around and walked to his seat. The HR guy finished picking up his papers and turned to Dick.

"So… what do you think?"

"I'm only interested in numbers two and four..." he said "See if it's possible to have them here on Friday."

"Here?" the man raised his brow. "I thought you wanted to meet them in India?"

"No; I want to meet them here. When we put our feet on India we'll already have our man."

"When are you leaving?"

"Tuesday…" he shrugged, getting impatient.

"Tuesday? … why not Monday?"

"Just because," Dick looked at the man, confronting. The man was about to reply but seemed to think twice and let go.

"Alright" he said "I let you know how things go." and with that he left the office.

"What's gotten into him?"

Dick was still looking with disdain to the closed door.

"Now he questions your decisions?"

Arnold looked at his own papers as the group of guys set the mood for the meeting. As he'd said before, Dick's lead become obvious to his eyes, which remained glued to the spot in front of his desk. He was the Alpha male. The group looked like a bunch of bullies following the precepts of their leader. All of them were mumbling dismissive and trivial commentaries about the man that just left the office. They looked like something that Arnold had witnessed before but just couldn't pinpoint what it was exactly…

"… something to do with Helga, maybe?"

Arnold raised his sight to see the scene, but the man at the head of the table didn't react. Instead he straightened and called to order.

"Let's start. "

And they got started. Layouts of the enterprise; the setting of the different departments; production, shipping, storage, offices…. There were some aspects Arnold understood and some that he didn't. Every one of them seemed to know their part. A couple of videos of the plant itself and the production line were showed on the screen as they kept talking about the factory in detail. It was obvious it was the first time they were in contact with the information, and at least in that sense they were equal.

But that was the one aspect in which they were equal, because they seemed to know their job and Arnold felt like a bystander. Dick and Stan started to explain the preliminary but soon each one of them focused in their own part. Marty seemed to be the person in charge of logistics and Mike and the redhead focused in the production systems. Arnold felt lost for a moment. It was not nice to see people doing their work while doing nothing. The beefy dark haired man seemed the one who was going to be in charge of the personnel and Arnold got close to him because their jobs were similar.

Woody Stevenson had a very good notion of the procedures and doings of the situation at hand, but received in good mood his assistance; Arnold confirmed his understanding about employment regulations in India. It felt good to help. After a while Marty asked him about commercial laws too. The guys were just getting to know the company. It was the first time they were going to take charge of an enterprise located in India and in no time Arnold felt more at ease being helpful. Stan enumerated several aspects in which he'd require further information later and Arnold wrote it all down.

Arnold leaned back in his chair when a layout of the enterprise with the physical location of the almost eight hundred workers reached his hands. They were divided in small teams. It was interesting to see that the production area was divided in two because the offices were settled in the middle of the place. Arnold wondered if that was the usual way to do the things. He hadn't been in a manufacturing plant ever. He had always worked at building offices. He put the plan on the table noticing that Maintenance and Shipping Departments were at the bottom of the location when there was a knock in the door.

"Knock, knock, knock," A soft voice accompanied the sound; a second later the door opened and a slender figure could be seen standing there.

"Helga… what a surprise!" Stan got up from his chair. "Please, come in. We were missing you," his broad smile and extravagant politeness were so false that Arnold frowned. Something was off. He realized the rest of the guys were attentive to their interaction although they kept working.

"Oh, how nice of you, Stanley," Helga's voice also sounded fake. She curtsied and showed a cheesy grin. "Gracie told me you guys took a book that I need." She turned around. "Control and Regulations in…"

"… India." Woody spoke. "Here." He straightened and left his spot, walking to the end of the room where he took a thick book from the corner table "Do you really need it?" he made a face "Because I'm still…"

"Just a consultation. Need to check something up." She answered. She opened the book and raised her sight to find eight pairs of eyes fixed on her. "Jeez!" she exclaimed, amused "Why the hostility?!"

"What do you really want?" Stan asked, deadpan .

"I need a book. One that none of you is seeing, by the way." She used her finger as bookmark and held it in the crook of her arm. Walking to the door she added "I better go."

"Why do you need it right now?" This time it was Mike who asked.

"Gosh!" she turned around "Hmmm… I don't know if you are aware, pretty boy, but we just bought an enterprise in India," She spoke slowly, as if she was talking to a kid "and I'm still working in…"

"Come on!"

"Helga!"

"Don't be a jerk!"

"Then don't be a tool!" she countered. "God, what a bunch of idiots!" the entire group grumbled "I don't understand. What's your problem? Anyone would say you feel threatened by a girl; that you can't tolerate a little bit of estrogen in your testosterone fueled world."

"Look that it's just a little bit!"

"Typical grade-school retort." She scoffed "Do you know how many times I've heard it? Always coming from jerks like you, the hockey goon kind."

Hockey goons. Arnold hid his smirk. That was exactly the word he'd been looking for.

"You take advantage that you're a girl,"

Helga rolled her eyes. "Doi, of course I do, moron!" Marty cursed; the rest of the guys protested.

"What do you need to know?" Woody finally asked, trying to calm the moods.

Helga hesitated, then exhaled.

"The kind of enterprise we are…" she vacillated when the boys booed "I mean, considering the number of workers, do we obtain better tax benefits starting from …?"she paused "How many?"

"O-oh!" someone exclaimed "So you want to hire more workers?"

"There's no room to get more people in there. It's already a can!"

Helga shook her head dismissively and ignored their complaints. She nodded to Woody for an answer. When the guy did she continued asking related stuff. Arnold was attentive. It was his field of expertise after all and he'd wished she'd come to him for information rather than undergo this awkward scene. There was a moment when Woody vacillated that Arnold used to join in the conversation. Helga nodded listening to him explaining a technicality without showing they've already met. Arnold played along. Probably it was better this way so the guys didn't harass him later. He was finishing his explanation when Stan spoke again from his seat.

"Helga… you're distracting my boys," he said with unmasked impatience.

"Yeah, yeah. Bad Helga. It's my fault that your boys are so easily distracted." Helga turned to Woody "Still, I'd like to check it out." She signaled the book. "Can I have it for awhi…"

"You know?" Dick straightened from his position; a smug on his face as he capped the pen he'd been using. Then he spoke with deliberate slowness, "Henry has an…" he touched his elbow "… itch… in his arm," he smirked "and there's nobody around to nurse him…"

"Henry is here?" she asked astonished, raising her head on and pushing carelessly the book against Woody chest "Why didn't tell me before? I'm losing my time here," and with that she walked on. From the doorway she turned around to add "Thank you, Goody-Woody… Football Head…" and closed the door.

"That's my boss, yeah!"

Stan was high fiving Dick, whose smug had reached his entire face. The guys cheered. Arnold shook his head with disbelief. They were all grown men, for god's sake!

"God! She's crazy!"

"Why did you take so long?" the redhead asked.

"I wanted to know what she was up to…" Dick said, leaning over to his work again.

"What was she up to?"

"More personnel?" Mike asked, visibly concerned.

"The key word in here is how many people she's talking about…" Stan pondered.

"Guys," Dick called to order "I'll take care of that later. We still have work to do. I'm getting hungry."

As the guys gathered again around the table Marty got close to Woody and Arnold.

"So Goody-Woody, huh?" then turning to see Arnold he cracked a laugh and added "and Football Head? Sorry man. That's Helga Pataki for you, huh?"

"I've already had the pleasure," he smiled with indulgence. Remembering they weren't supposed to be friends he added for good measure "She's hot."

Woody elbowed him and Marty cleared his throat. Arnold got confused.

"You better stay away from her, my friend. She might be hot, but she's the devil."

'_She devil? Helga? You must be kidding me!'_ Arnold looked around and saw a couple of guys throwing him cautionary looks. He turned to Woody who only shook his head.

* * *

. . .

Later, when they finally left the meeting after fixing a new one for the next morning, Woody and Arnold went to have lunch together. It was later than usual and his buddies were already at lunchtime. Woody explained to him that Helga was a bit of a taboo topic for them. They never talked about her if it wasn't to say she was a bitch. They never laughed at her jokes; never offered their help; and never, ever, said she was hot, smart, or funny.

"This is ridiculous!" Arnold chuckled. Noticing Woody solemnity, he asked "Why?"

"She's mean." The dark haired man shrugged his shoulders. "Besides, Dick hates her; so we all hate her too."

"Really?" Woody nodded. Arnold always thought that taking the things to the extreme was the worst way to deal with anything. Alright, Helga could be mean, but he'd thought Dick was a smart guy. "How mean can she be?" he asked looking at the solid guy that was in front of him.

"Come on, Arnold." He grumbled "I want to enjoy my meal here!"

Look that it was the hockey team who talked, huh?

. . .

* * *

**I don't own Hey Arnold!**

**I don't own any other TM in here. I own only the plot and the OC.**

**And saying that I don't know a thing about commercial regulations, we go on. Thank you to all who read and mark it as follow/favorite. A thousand thank you to those who review: Raven Granger, Nep2uune, Jose Ramiro, CarlinJ83, Anonymous Latina and Presley Rox. You guys rock! Also I want to let you know I'm NOT leaving this story; it's just that real life consumes most of my time and energy. I cannot promise frequent updates, but suffice to say that this fic is always in my mind and that is matter of time to see it written and developed here.**

**Happy and successful 2015 to you all!**

**January 11th, 2015.**


	12. Helga Be Nice

**Rocket to the Moon**

**Chapter Twelve**

**Helga Be Nice. **

* * *

**. . . **

"In China for instance, they are more open to negotiate. Their politics is clear…"

"Do you mean India is nothing like that?" she asked, somewhat apathetically.

"Well, India is making some changes. I think they eventually realized…" and he went on mentioning the similitudes and differences between both economies, including the cultural and politic backgrounds and how they affected their policies.

Helga nodded as her sight went back to the screen of her laptop.

"… So it depends of the level of exportations. For instance, how much do you think you'd be selling to the exterior?" Arnold asked.

Helga leaned against the back of her chair. Her reply to the mail was ready but in the other side of the globe the clock ticked three in the morning. She used to manage her communications so they were received at the right time. She exhaled. Talk about oddities. She should just send it at once.

"How much?" Arnold insisted. She raised her sight.

"Almost the entire production goes to the exterior, Arnold." She exhaled, masking her exasperation.

"Yeah, but how much are we talking about?" he insisted. She was still reticent about giving too much information.

"It's really that important?"

In sight of her reserve he continued.

"Our rank depends on it." Helga smirked. There it was. The key word. His '_our_' was worth the impatient delay. Why he took too long to admit it? That Football Head! If only she had time to rub it in his face - Oh, Lord! - How much she'd enjoy making him admit he already felt Mueller as his own home. "Alright," he went on "Let's say, a hundred millions?" he paused, attentive to her reactions "Did I fell short?" he shrugged "Far over?"

"Short. By far." she finally disclosed, then exhaled. "How much is the difference?"

"Well, if that _'by far_' is twice the size we can say that there's not much difference; if you mean ten times higher, then we're talking about…"

Helga nodded; her sight fell back to the screen as he kept talking. She had already warned Arnold she was replying her email. The messenger icon was blinking and she touched it.

_= "Everything went well?"_

She breathed deeply.

\- - "Yep," she typed and sent back.

She raised her sight to see the boy in front of her, still talking about rank limits and whatnot. Helga smiled and nodded every once in a while, repeating his words. She didn't want to be rude but this boy was wearing thin her patience. There were a couple of things she'd be doing right now and this interview was going on and on. She had to stop him at some point; there was no choice.

She was about to do it when he looked up; and smiled. She smiled back. _Stupid Football head! Do you think I don't have another thing to do than look at your pretty face?!_ She groaned inwardly; his eyes shone and she didn't feel like interrupting him. Yet. She looked up to see the clock on the wall. It's was almost five o'clock.

She made up her mind. Two more minutes. She'd give him two more minutes and that's it.

She turned to the messenger again.

_= "Any counteroffer?"_

\- - "OfC. They'll do wht I want. I'm gnna W 'em B 2nite. Hope to have an answr 2moro." _\- _Oh, she hated 'texting'!

_= "So you're decided?"_

\- - "From min 1."

She grinned; then raised her sight and kept the smile for Arnold who smiled back. He took a pen and starting to draw lines and columns in a paper. She rolled her eyes and blew out again.

_="Did you already talk to Dick?"_

She grunted inwardly.

\- - " :/"

_="Why?"_

She raised her sight.

\- - "The Ftbll Hd s still here?"

_="Why is he there, again?"_

\- - "He offered to come n explain everythin'bout the proceds in India"

As expected, Henry made a pause. Helga let out a crooked smile. Arnold continued oblivious, drawing happily away lines in the paper. Then she saw the ellipsis that indicated that Henry was writing back.

_="But honey, don't you know everything about procedures in India already?"_

\- - "I know - bt A doesn't K I K"

_= " ? "_

\- - "He took too seriously my visit to Dick this mornin"

_="Really?"_ Helga nodded

… "_And he chivalrously came to offer you his help? _

… _;) "_

\- - "Alright- go on. Have fun."

_="I'm having fun :D"_

\- - "Idiot!"

She raised her sight and exhaled. "That's' it." She cut her guest off "I think I get it, Arnold"

"You do?" He looked at her, surprised "What did you get?"

"That… ranking thing of course" she tried to hide her exasperation but didn't know if she did a good job "I mean I understand _now _the ranking thing."

"How?" he frowned "I'm barely starting to explain how it works." she stopped herself before rolling her eyes. _Could he be more oblivious?_

"Oh," she blinked "I mean I understood what I needed to. I don't want to become an expert, right?" she said, forcing a wide smile. Arnold leaned back in his chair looking pleased, and then he came forward, pointed something in the sheet and started to talk again.

Inadvertently to him, Helga released her breathe gradually and observed him. Good old Football Head. How dumb could he be? He really thought his intentions weren't obvious? So far she remembered he was always nice - and caring and whatever-, but – she scoffed inwardly- Just look at him now! So attentive! So willing to help! His green eyes shone and his smile couldn't be bigger!

Bah! Helga scoffed in her mind. If he'd only acted this way towards her when she was seventeen he'd swept her off her feet and sent her away right to the heavens where she'd think she'd live happily ever after. Luckily he didn't, she thought with cynicism, otherwise she'd be now a bored housewife with a bunch of kids under the arm and most probably broken, drunken and hating him in silence; finding solace to her bitterness in a world of fantasy…

Helga shook her head. It was getting late. The blonde boy in front of her was showing her his big smile and perfect white teeth. Poor Football head; he never stopped falling for the pretty faces. She wondered if she still have her ugly nose or worked as a clerk in a corner store he'd be so helpful.

_="Is he still there?" _

\- - "Yep, he is."

_="I was wondering… What made you fell in love with him?"_

Helga chuckled. Arnold turned to see her with a frown.

"Just a second," she told him. Arnold nodded.

\- - "Jealous are we?" she typed and sent back.

"Well, Arnold. Thank you for coming…"

"Who are you talking to?" Arnold asked with a lax smile. Helga drew an amused face. _'Jealous are we?'_ she wrote in her mind. Then shook her head. Her mind looked like an old blackboard.

"Henry," she answered, shrugging her shoulders.

_= "Just curious"_ Henry replied. _"So?"_

"Am I interrupting you?"

\- - "He…" she wrote… and said. "He's asking me stuff related to all this." She signaled the papers scattered across her desk "I'm sorry Arnold, but I'm still kind of busy here. And I also need to talk to Dick before he leaves. I really appreciate your…"

"Does Henry know I'm here?"

_= "Are you ever going to tell me?" _The screen blinked.

… _Again?" _

**_MEN! _**

Helga wanted to yell. She expected Arnold didn't notice the fire in her eyes. She breathed twice before going on.

"No. Kitty told him I had company," she shook her head.

"Is he… jealous?" he asked with vacillation.

"He's not…" Helga stopped herself realizing her spontaneous reply wasn't quite right. She put her hands on the table. "Look Arnold, I'd really appreciate if you stop asking me that kind of stuff. It's getting _old_! And nobody besides you asks it anymore. In fact, _nobody-besides-you_ dares to ask me about Henry the way you do."

"Really?" He said, somewhat resented. "You have never given me a proper reply."

Helga resolved be patient, once again.

"It's because it _is_ complicated…" she paused "And it's not only about me, alright? It's just that I can't make… a statement. I guess you know what I mean."

"I don't, actually." Arnold insisted "It's just - man! - that I see you and I think what a …"

"Arnold, don't!" she said firmly "Just stop it," her eyes warned him. She took an intake and got up. "Thank you for all your help. I appreciate you coming by to… help me. It's a little early. I'll let you know later how this thing goes though I suppose you'd be informed in the morning."

"Dick already knows?"

"He's about to," she nodded. "And only after I talk to him is that I can talk to somebody else, alright?"

Arnold nodded, understanding "I imagine"

"Yeah," she came from behind her desk and stopped by his side. "Well…"

She almost groaned when he took his time to get up and follow her to the door.

"Well, Arnold. I think I'll see you on Monday before you go." She patted his shoulder.

"You do?"

"I'm sure."

_Have a nice trip! - Be a nice kid! - How's your girl taking the news? - How are you coping with Dick's gang?_

And other bunch of phrases and questions came to her mind but went off without being spoken. Any of them would bring a reply that could go on and on. She exhaled when he finally turned around and walked towards the elevator. Her secretary captured her sight and Helga signaled Dick's door. Kitty nodded and moved her eyes in a warning fashion.

Figures.

Before turning to pick up papers from her desk she threw a last glance to Arnold, wishing he'd disappear before Dick caught a glimpse of him leaving her office. The last thing she needed was Peter being suspicious of the Football Head. Deb would hate her; she was hoping they'd get along. The aforementioned boy was waiting by the elevator. He turned his head back and waved his hand.

_Stupid sexy Flanders!_

She scoffed with annoyance going back to her office. That little twerp! He thought he was irresistible or what?! Although, truth be told, Arnold wasn't half bad. She knew that if she wanted… Gah! What was the point? The boy was handsome so what?! She didn't need more complication. Her love life was already a mess. She had a relationship that couldn't even be properly named 'relationship'! She groaned.

Besides, Arnold had a steady girlfriend, and she wasn't that naughty anymore, no. She was 'nice'. She almost curtsied when she said it.

She touched the screen of her computer and it came back to life. The screen showed the mail ready to be sent to the people she was dealing with at the Department of Economic Affairs in India. What the hell! She clicked the 'Send' button. Then she proceeded to close the browser when the messenger box blinked with Henry last message.

_= "Are you ever going to tell me? _

… _Again?"_

_._

_._

… "_Busy or angry?"_

Helga looked around in search of her papers and put them in a folder, then put the rest of them in a neat pile. Looking at the folder she changed her mind and decided she needed nothing, so with this resolution she put the folder on top. Exhaling, she leaned to use the keyboard.

\- - "_Busy,"_ she sent. Then reread his previous question. "_What made you fell in love with him?"_

She pulled the pc towards her

\- - "He was nice to me an exceedingly awful day." She wrote "He was always nice. I really think he's still one of the nicest kids around."

Henry must be wasting idly his time because the answer came right away.

_="So you liked nicey, huh? _

\- - "Hey! I still like nice!

_= "Really?"_

\- - " |:("

_= "I love your brow ;)_

… _I guess he's already gone?"_

\- - "Yep"

Helga straightened, but then another message arrived. Hesitating, she leaned over.

_= "He's good looking."_

She snorted, Pulling at her blouse and flattening her skirt.

… "_Do you still like him?" _Henry asked again

\- - "Nope," she paused

\- - "Though he has a nice butt."

_= "It's good to see you know how to appreciate the right ass-ets"_

\- - "Why, thank you, sir!" she laughed. She was starting to write again _"I'm -goi…"_ when another message arrived.

_= "He's crazy about you"_

\- - "Haha"

Helga bit her lip

\- - "He asked about us_…_

_\- -_ … Again"

_= "What did you say?"_

\- - "None of your business…

\- - … meaning his business, of course, not yours, "

Helga took an intake as she waited

_= "I know,"_

…_Seems he doesn't like seeing you as my woman…_

\- - "I guess…

_= "It bothers you?"_

\- - "No,

… in fact it's kinda fun"

_= "Naughty!_

… _I find it funny too."_

\- - That makes two of us"

\- - …I gotta go

\- - … Talk to you later

_= "Helga,"_

\- - 'Naughty',

_= "Talking about naughty,_

_= … Be nice."_

"Nice?" she let out a scoff.

_= … and patient"_

\- - "Patient and nice?" she nodded, unbelieving

_= "Please?"_

_\- - "_Do you realize that you're asking me that

_\- - _AGAIN?

_= "It's seems to be necessary…_

\- - "Because of me?

_\- - _Yesterday was …_"_

_= "If you love me please be patient"_

\- - "Damn!

\- - You have to bring the L word?"

_= "I know he's a fool"_

_\- - _Fool doesn't even start…

_= Oh, honey, I know_

… _But I feel sorry for him. It's not his fault after all_

… _He just can't help it_

… _I've been there _

Helga sighed deeply.

\- - "I just can't think about you being a dick

\- - No matter how much you say it, "

_= "But I was_

… _Once _

Helga looked at the words in the screen for almost a minute.

… _I think she told you so, didn't she?"_

\- - "Yeah, she did.

\- - It's just…

\- - Hel…"

A sudden rumble shook her.

**"Can I know when were you _FUCKING _going to _SEE ME_?!"**

The door was slammed open; her heart jumped to her throat. Helga turned around with a jerk, leaning against the edge of the desk.

"_Jesus Dick_!" she gasped.

"You think all my **_GODDAMNED_** time is yours **_OR W**H**AT_?**"

Helga took a second or two to put herself together. _'Be nice'_ she took an intake. Her mouth was dying for a proper retort to the man who was standing right before her, but her conditioned response forced herself to act calmed.

"I thought these lovely…" she breathed in "… _encounters_… had been left behind," then she let out a small laugh.

"I've been waiting for **_H__**ou**rs_** so you concede me a little bit of your **_D__**a**mn_** time!"

_Procrastination… It's called procrastination…_

"Damn…- fuck... goddamned... Why everything has to be damned with you?" she walked around her desk and opened a drawer, trying to act as if nothing "It hasn't been hours." She raised her sight to meet his glare and then her eyes focused in door partly open behind him. People were worried out there "I went looking for you around four."

"I was in my office at four o'clock!"

"I guess I got busy then." She shrugged her shoulders.

"And there aren't those things called _priorities_?"

"Of course they are." She paused "But this wasn't one"

"_It wasn't?" _Helga shook her head. She breathed out by the nose, ignoring the warning in his voice. "So now all my _Fucking Work_ has to wait until _Your_ _Highness_ deigns to address me…"

"Do you really think you intimidate me?" she turned up to see him. "Alright, go on. Bark all what you want. But please close the door; I don't want the girls getting scared because of your yelling."

"I'm not yelling," he walked up to the door, and effectively stopped speaking aloud.

"You're not yelling right now, but you certainly were. Geez! You really think you look threatening? Because you actually look like my five years old nephew throwing a tantrum! " She turned to close her pc, knowing she was pushing his buttons "I was waiting for some information. That's why I didn't go to see you, - alright?" She paused "And it's only because I respect you too much that I didn't want to waste your time."

"_Oh, Really?!"_

"Really!" she faced him. He snorted no believing one single word. Actually, it was only an excuse but it didn't matter. Dick wasn't going to believe her anyway. Disbelief was one of his traits, she could tell. Descartes was a bush-leaguer compared to him. She took the laptop in her arms.

"Now where are you _fucking_ going?" he frowned as she walked to the doorway.

"To your, '_fucking' _office, of course." She looked at him looking falsely startled "We'll need your whiteboard. But I'll stop for a coffee." She added chirpily. From the door she turned around "Do you want some?"

"Coffee?"

_Prozac. _

She nodded, naively.

"Do you want coffee right now?!"

"I need it."

"Why don't just ask your secretary?"

"Because I don't like her coffee." She lowered her voice and made a face. "Here," she jabbed her laptop into his chest when he reached her. "I'll be with you in a minute" and with that she walked on, leaving him in at her own door.

There was a time when she'd fear he flung her laptop to the floor and started walking all over it but now she knew better. She knew _him_ better. The idiot would do one of two things: He'd be even more upset when she finally reached him in his office; or he'd be calmer. As of late the latter had been the usual, though being sincere it didn't mean there was a big deal of a difference from one to the other.

Helga puffed as she left his pink colored marker on the table and poured coffee to her mug. She hated that she still reacted this way to his outbursts. She should already know that when a commotion started it wasn't because an emergency; it was just Dick being a dick.

Still, she must admit that today she might be delaying their encounter on purpose. She hoped the longer she delayed it the shorter it lasted. It wasn't that she actually feared him - their meetings used to take forever in fact, once they kicked in - but it was simply that sometimes she didn't feel like to spend time with him and today was one of those days.

She left the room and walked to his office ignoring the pitiful slash expectant slash anxious looks in the eyes of the secretaries. The door was open and Dick was waiting for her at the bottom of the place. His office was so large that it could be easily divided in two executive spaces. It has an L shape and he had placed another desk and a couple of whiteboards at the bottom that were partially hidden by a folding decorative screen. When he was working in the planning, design or setup of the enterprises and needed concentration he used to refuge in here; in this hidden, nice place.

Making obvious his impatience he took his seat, and Helga didn't wait to get started, not because his impatience but because it was about time to get over this. She began drawing a general layout of the industrial park where the new enterprise was located; being careful to mark in pink the characteristics she'd eventually explain. Then she portrayed the plant itself - layouts that she'd already provided - at the same time she explained the general information. What do they produced; the different kinds of clothing; how do they did it; who were their clients; where did they ship the merchandise, and stuff of the kind; until finally she went to seat down beside him to show him her specialty: the numbers.

Dick had already seen them, but never this close. As she supposed he got surprised. Despite being a 'modest old factory' the company has the potential to be a goldmine. Its previous owners were three brothers that after their father death they never got along. They fought amongst them for control and their fights affected the production. When an interesting proposition arrived they just saw an easy way out, -the same way that had happened to her long ago. As far as the East is from the West, so far money was still money.

"So what's exactly your plan?"

And so money was still money that at the slightest hint that Mueller was willing to spend some extra millions got them some interesting propositions. One of the brothers talked to a friend, who talked to a cousin, who talked to his – whoever - who knew someone from the government. A proposition was made…

"Where is that?"

Helga got up and walked to the board.

"This – very – one," her hand touched the adjacent warehouse. "It's empty and has been empty for almost two years. They used to make cables, but they moved to Korea where the automotive plant they worked for is located."

"What size it is?"

"Slightly bigger than the actual" she paused "They offered me to tear it down and raise a new one, attached to this, but I really don't see a problem if they are two separated places; like the one in Colombia, right? -Of course, I'd like to hear your opinion before taking a decision…" she bit her lip because she had already accepted.

"I don't see no problem if we have two plants." He said. Helga nodded, not showing happiness because his consent. He was calmed, in the right mood now and she didn't want to trigger a new fit. With Dick you have to start from scratch every single day; you needed to move as carefully as if you were walking on quicksand. You never knew when a new explosion was coming. "That way we don't have to wait until the new building is ready."

"Yeah, I counted on you saying that," Helga nodded as she opened a layout of the warehouse and some photos on the screen of her pc. "So this is it. What do you think?"

"It's bigger than I thought."

"I know,"

"Seems to be in excellent conditions."

"Yeah, it is. Ready to be filled with sewing machines."

"Alright… how about this new inversion? How much are we talking about?" he leaned in his chair to look right to her face.

"How much do you need?" she wriggled her brows.

"I don't have the slightest idea…" he shook his head "Enlighten me."

"I'm open to your requests." She leaned back too. Now they were getting to the point. "Half for starters? At full capacity?" seeing his disbelief she went on "If I talk about a thousand of new job posts…" she turned to the screen " -that is about the estimated of people that fit in the place…-"

"They promised you the moon." He ended for her.

"Well, the _earth_ actually. The land." She wriggled her brows "And a lot of extra benefits." She crossed her arms over her chest "What do you think?"

"Alright; let's think I say 'Fill it'… are there clients for the new level of production?"

"Leo just told me there are. They are already waiting."

"Leo is still there?"

She nodded "He'll be there until the next week. You're gonna see him."

Dick nodded; and then pulled the computer towards him so he studied the diagram. Helga leaned back, observing him. As much as she avoided him at work she admitted he was a genius. The organization and functioning of the companies couldn't be in better hands. His obsessiveness reached everything; from the production system to the most trifling detail. Operations came naturally to him.

Then she sighed, getting comfortable in her seat. She remembered when she first met him. She was at the headquarters of Big Bob Stores in Hillwood when her secretary announced him. She already knew who Henry and Dick Mueller were, but she didn't have idea what the hell they wanted to do with her. She must confess she first thought the young Mueller went to offer a product or service of their own stock.

So imagine her surprise when the tall, blond, standoffish, ill-mannered young boy -add that he had a hard time expressing himself into the bargain-, threw to her desk a paper with a seven figures number written on it.

"For Pete's sake!" She scoffed.

She sent him back right to the _rustic _way he came! The idiot! How he dared… _even to try! _

The next time she was unprepared again. They were eight figures now. Not that there was a big difference between nine and a half and ten and a half, right? The idea of selling the stores now played in her mind, if every once in a while. After all Mueller proposition wasn't that bad; they just needed to adjust the price, - _BUT_

To think that that insufferable guy would possess what was only Pataki property! Such idiot! What a cretin! Just thinking about what her father would say! Big Bob Pataki would turn in his grave if he knew!

But then, the third time it was Henry the one who crossed her threshold. Unaccompanied. Smiling, kind, gentile, sympathetic, fatherly Henry. Cunning Henry…. Long story short, it was true that he used all his charm, but it was also true that she was already half convinced. She only needed him uttering the right sum. He didn't. She named it and Henry laughed. When he realized she was being serious he got serious too. Of course there was a tug of war. And they finally came to an understanding. Helga now was able to admit she acted as a brat when she asked Henry she didn't want Dick getting his hands on her property _ever_. 'Ex-property' he pointed out. Henry offered her to come and see.

In due course Dick got his hands all over the Pataki property and Helga had to live with it. In fact she let him do it; he was becoming the head of Operations after all. Still, he was kind enough to consult her in every single step of the development. The stores were a success. Helga liked to think they were her ideas. But it was Dick as who carried them out in the end.

Helga observed him as he wrote on his leather sketchbook. The embossed notebook looked like something the Pope would use. It was full of his sketches, drawings and notes. She shook her head. There he was, so concentrated in his work. This was the Dick she liked working with, dealing with; the relaxed, even-tempered, creative guy that was seated by her side; not the insufferable diva he could become sometimes.

She got up and walked around the room. In the opposite side of the table there were some papers. She looked at them. Curriculums, plans, layouts and a lot of his writing were in there besides the information she had shared to him the previous day.

"I see you have a good deal of work already done,"

"Yep,"

"How's Stan? He's still angry with me?"

"You already know him," he kept looking at his work.

"He was mean."

"Hey!" he chortled, raising briefly his sight to look at her "You're a pain in their asses. There is a reason why they hate you."

She grunted.

"They hate me only because they don't know what to do with me. I can't blame them though,"

"Stan doesn't share your opinion."

"Stan wants me... Poor bitch!"

Dick snorted. "If you say so"

Helga chortled. After leaving the papers in its place and giving him a quick look, she spoke again.

"You know?"

"Huh?"

"I don't know why you insist in wearing gray shirts; they don't go with your complexion."

"Hu huh,"

"Yep." she paused "I mean, I know guys have it hard since your wardrobe swings from grays to blues and that's it. Brown is for losers and black is too formal. But gray doesn't suit you, none of its shades. The problem isn't the jacket, you know? but _gray –over - gray_ it's just … _dull._" She ended with a puff.

"Well I never!" he snorted. Helga laughed at his funny expression.

"You think I'm just teasing you?"

"Nope. I think you spent too much time with Rhonda."

"Not, it's not enough I assure you" she remembered then she had yet to plan an evening meeting with Rhonda and the Football Head. It'd be a nice get together in her place or Rhonda's, but she hasn't started anything yet just because she didn't know if they had to invite Arnold's girlfriend to come along. "Anyway,"

"Do the workers are mostly females?"

"Yeah, they are." Helga nodded. "They wear western clothing by the way."

"That's a shame"

"Tell me about it!"

Dick looked at her with a questioning look. She shrugged him dismissively. He went on working and after a while he spoke again.

"I think it could be eleven hundreds; give or take."

"That's a good number," she nodded. "I'll need you for the public announcement though."

"Henry is not going?"

She shook her head. "It'll be the two of us."

"Alright I guess. I'll be there about three weeks."

"10-4. I'll make the arrangements."

She took her seat again as he continued writing. She waited because he should give her a quick outline of his initial plan so she had the base to start the budget. She was also expectant. She had just brought out a topic she'd been thinking for a while, but hadn't been talked so far.

Dick was the one of the public faces of the company, and he wasn't bad at all, quite the opposite, but sometimes he was too busy doing his things and being the boss that he didn't _primped_ himself with the adequate care and attention. She hated seing Mike Davis acting as if he were the king of the hill. It wasn't as if she wanted a metrosexual Dick all of a sudden, but taking a little extra care wouldn't hurt. She prided herself on her understanding of him, _soooo_… it was matter of time that he _asked._

"You know," he started. Helga paid full attention "What were you telling me about my… complexion?"

"Oh, - That?" she replied, feigning irrelevance, but in fact she hoped he didn't raise his sight because he'd catch her with a grin bigger than the one of the Cheshire Cat. He raised his sight then and she put on a normal expression. "Gray is not your color, you know, you should try…"

"Why not?"

"I don't know, I didn't make up that thing with colors, but I have eyes and I see, and realize gray just doesn't suit you. You should wear more blue."

"Blue?" he was now looking at her with attention, leaving the sketchbook aside. A frown adorned his forehead.

"Yes, blue." She looked at him searchingly, given his expression "Why the skepticism? It's only because it flatters you too much? Well, to hell with modesty! Blue looks great in you. Blue over blue looks gorgeous and gray over blue isn't dull at all. And if you don't believe me just go to your home and try it on in front of a mirror. I'm not teasing you."

"Why you never told me this before?"

"We never have time to talk about stuff like this, I guess. You're always grumpy and I'm always pushing your buttons." She shrugged showing him an apologetic smile and went on "But then I came in and saw you seated over there, and even when you look, let's say, fine, and it's obvious that your clothes are expensive you just don't bring out your better self."

"I don't know if I should feel offended," he shook his head, "And don't say…"

"Oh, come on!" suddenly she felt heaviness in her chest "We're not that kind of friends, alright? Period."

"But…"

"Not now!" she uttered, warningly.

"Alright. Not a word. But it's not me this time." And showing he couldn't care less he went back to his book again. Helga grumbled. She took her computer and went to check her workbooks while kept waiting.

"Only blue?" Suddenly he asked. Helga snorted.

"So you care after all?" he let out a smug grin. Helga shook her head. That odd expression always made her feel weird. Now it also made her feel kinda guilty for messing with his head this way. "No. Not only blue. Well, I'm not expert, but I think dark green also goes to you… and yellow."

"Yellow?" he frowned "I think I've never worn yellow in my life."

"You should try it..." she shrugged turning to the screen and then she bit her lip "You know?" she looked up. He was looking at her with that penetrating gaze that made her feel uncomfortable. She didn't want to read too much into it, so she pushed the thought to the back of her mind. "Red is fine too. It is… intense. It boosts your appearance; calls the attention."

"And that's a good thing?"

"Try and tell me then."

"What shade of red do you think is better?"

She grinned openly.

"I don't know. All of them. Though Mueller red looks particularly good in you."

"Mueller red? Really?"

She nodded.

"But don't lose your time. Blue is good enough." A playful smile appeared on her lips "It has more than fifty shades, by the way… a lot more."

.

* * *

.

**I don't own Hey Arnold! **

**I don't own the TM in here. I own only the plot and the OC.**

**Thank you for reading and follow/favorite this. To the reviewers I send my love and a bear hug. Thank you to Nep2uune, Jose Ramiro, CarlinJ83, Anonymous Latina and Presley Rox. **

**Also want to thank you to those who keep marking as favorite my previous work. I really appreciate it. **

**January 30th, 2015.**


	13. Business Travel Part One

**Rocket to the Moon**

**Chapter Thirteen**

**Business Trip Part One  
**

* * *

.

… '_Be a good kid.'_ Read the white bubble. He smiled reading it. For the umpteenth time.

. -'_Why you say that? _

_ . - You know I'm always a good kid," _was his answer, enclosed in a blue bubble each.

There was no further reply.

It was the second time Helga said it; the same day; on Monday before their trip. Two and a half weeks later and he finally got her meaning. The blond boy smirked raising his sight to see his friends occupying their time in their own electronic devices.

The first time it had happened in floor 29. Arnold went to run some errands. Deb and Helga were talking in the hallway by the staircase. They had been at it for a while now. When Arnold returned he stopped by their side to talk to his boss. After he ended Helga asked him if he was ready for the trip.

"As ready as it gets," was his answer. Helga had smirked.

"I really hope so."

And then they went talking about trips. Business and leisure travels. Deb wasn't a great traveler. She said she was just a girl from North Dakota who now lived in NYC. Where else she'd wish for? Arnold admitted she had a point. Meanwhile, he who had been once a backpacker now fancied going away to enjoy his vacations. Helga on her side was a frequent flyer who had accumulated so many miles that she'd never pay for a personal flight again.

When he'd ended telling them about their last vacation he turned towards Helga who was looking at him with an odd expression.

"What?" he'd asked.

"Be a good kid," there was a hint of warning in her voice.

People were working around as always; going their ways; doing their things. But Arnold felt like if she wanted to tell him something else; as if her words had an ulterior meaning. So he decided to ask.

"Why'd you say that?"

But his question went unnoticed because at that very moment Dick Mueller and Mike Davis got out of the staircase.

"Hi Helga, Hi Deb." Dick addressed them with his signature greeting. With a slight nod of his head he acknowledged Arnold too. He'd forgotten his name, probably. Or maybe there were too many names for a casual morning greeting. Who knew?

"Hi Dick… Mike,"

"Roderick… Mikkel-O,"

"Guys," Arnold hid his smile. Helga had always her ways to annoy people. Seemed that calling them other names never lost its punch; Mike had barely time to compose himself to let out a rushed and somewhat vacillating:

"Inga,"

Helga laughed at the lack of imagination of his poorly accomplished mocking. Dick on the other hand turned to see her with that impassive air that showed that he didn't give a shit about human interrelations. Then the two men went on to their own business as most of the girls in the seats craned their necks to follow their forms as they went down the hallway.

Arnold smiled seeing this, but then frowned when the duo reached the corner and turned to see the bunch by the staircase. Deb and Helga were back to their previous conversation so it was only Arnold who was looking their way.

He felt uncomfortable under their gaze. Dick was quite the character. Now that he got to work with him he could finally tell what all that noise about him was about. He remembered Deb saying Dick was 'special'. Well, Arnold would still say 'difficult' fit better.

* * *

…

For starters, Dick hated being interrupted. He hated if it looked like you weren't paying attention; hated if you asked something that had already been talked about; hated even if you yawned. His reactions were singular and went from simply raising his voice to making caustic commentaries or putting you to shame. He was impatient, irascible and had the most peculiar of the humors.

Arnold had witnessed a couple of scenes himself. The first time it was Henry the one who put Dick in a bad mood. He paid a visit to the Meeting Room and after seeing their work and asking a few questions he took leave and went off. Dick followed him. Contrary to his nephew Henry was quite the gentleman. Dick came back minutes later in a foul mood; minor changes were made to the operation plan. He complained to Stan in low grumbles. Arnold knew he could be slow, and dense, but anyone could realize Henry's power still reached him and his work, something that probably didn't make Dick any happy since everybody knew his uncle gave Helga carte blanche.

Another occasion a girl was called to the Meeting Room, an intern. She was asked to bring beverages and snacks to the group. She was a sweet pretty girl, too young. Her only sin was to chirpily announce her arriving and to ask what to do with the stuff on the tray she was holding.

Dick stopped what he was doing to applaud, smiling kindheartedly to her and without changing his expression, he asked wryly "What about throwing them out through the window?" Then he turned around and continued working.

The girl gave a step to the window but then halted, and smiled; thinking it was a joke and expecting that any moment he tell her what to do, for real. Arnold was perplexed at first, but then he narrowed his eyes. Dick was often surly, but he felt as if this conduct hid something else. As usual, some guys smiled celebrating his boss acerbity but the rest of them ignored the scene. Discourteously, they all went on with their things as if nothing.

Arnold waited for a prudent while until he realized it was real. No one was going to address her. To this time she'd realized that for an unknown reason she has being punished. The worst thing was that her punisher hasn't been any other but one of the owners himself; even Arnold thought twice before acting.

But still, he walked to her and took the tray from her hands motioning for her to help him to remove the stuff that was on a small table. The girl obeyed with trembling hands; her eyelashes were damp. Arnold smiled before thanking her and pointing to the door with discretion. She smiled back and disappeared in a second, carefully closing the door after her.

Arnold turned back to the table. Marty, Ben and Woody were looking his way. Arnold returned Woody sight but ignored Ben and Mike's; he didn't want to acknowledge their disdain. He didn't turn to Dick either. Taking air he walked to his spot at the table telling himself he'd done the right thing; remembering he'd been an intern once; the new guy around, the one who knew nothing. He recalled it was hell, but even then he hadn't been forced to put up with a bunch of bastards who poured some twisted code onto the office atmosphere as a way to relieve their frustrations.

.

But Dick wasn't harsh only on outsiders; his own team suffered his changing moods and impatience. Ben took a while to look for the answer to a given question and got a humiliating reprimand. Mike didn't come with any idea to solve a problem and was ignored the rest of the meeting. Stan and Dick didn't talk to each other at all the day before their departure and no one ever got to know why.

All that tension took its toll. The reunions were tiring. Arnold reached his house all those evenings feeling exhausted.

"Woody says that eventually I'll get used to." He'd said to Claire, who listened to him with patience.

But then there was a totally different scene when Dick took a call to answer a telephone survey in the middle of a meeting. He took his time, took his seat apart and started to reply a bunch of crap to questions about household cleaning products. Against his better will Arnold laughed; everybody was doing it. Dick humor was acrid; and despite all the nonsense he was saying some of his answers sounded logical to a certain degree. Besides, there was some kind of schadenfreude involved. Certain revenge against the obnoxious people from all those call centers who called anytime without consideration to your occupations. The girl in the other side of the line should be frustrated but Dick wouldn't let her hang up. The thing went on for about twenty minutes and when he finally hung he went back to work with renewed vigor.

. . .

"Oh my God!" Claire laughed aloud "He really said that saliva was the best to clean grime stains on the stove?"

"Or to remove mold from bathroom. Something like that; I don't remember exactly." Arnold shrugged his shoulders "He also called the things other names so it took forever to assume they were talking about the same stuff. He was driving her crazy. She had a hard time holding back; trying not to lose it."

"I'll be laughing my ass out if I've been there."

Arnold chortled.

"Yeah, I know, that was funny." He laughed "Though I must admit it was rather vicious too."

"Maybe…" she hesitated. "Still, I think it must be a laugh…"

"Yeah, it was; an unexpected relief between those unnecessary stressful sessions."

"Awww, you poor little guys,"

"Poor guys indeed." Arnold exhaled "But you know what the strangest thing I've seen in all this is?"

"What?" Claire looked at him in suspense.

"I think they like it."

"Explain,"

The blond paused. It was kind of an eye opener to say it aloud.

"They really like it; like him. I mean, they celebrate his sarcasm; they imitate it. They're always looking for his appreciation. They turn into him when they're with other people. Even… Woody…" Arnold shook his head "He's a dick when he's on his own, and yet when Dick is around he's just one of the puppies."

"Wow!" Claire blinked and remained thoughtful. "And what'd be the reason, according to you?"

"I really don't know…" he turned to her "What do you think?"

"Admiration?" she ventured with a small smile. "Respect?"

Arnold shrugged. "Maybe." He wasn't the best at reading people.

"Maybe is just because he's the boss." She added, but then she shrugged too. "How do you feel around them?"

"It's not that comfortable."

"It's the same feeling from back then when you left the firm."

"Not. Not at all. Back then it was a matter of integrity."

"And now?"

"Now it's just that I don't know if I'll be able to deal with their mood."

Claire thought for a while; then puffed.

"Well, Deb is your boss, not him…. And at least you already made clear that you're not a chump, right?"

Arnold let out a low grunt. He had already showed to Dick's Pack that he was not a sissy. Although at what price.

* * *

. . .

The blond lawyer's participation in the meetings had been delimited to point out the law every time they asked him to do it, each time Arnold considered necessary to make a mention and always that official procedure was involved. But after a couple of days when the planning was almost done and the operative system was being established, their attention was set in some specific details that hadn't been quite resolved. Arnold observed their discussion but he remained behind, until Dick suddenly turned to him and pointed to the table with his head.

"What would you do?" he asked. "Deb trusts you're the most capable man under her wing. Don't tell me she's mistaken."

Arnold blinked; and reminding Deb's advises he began to talk without hesitation.

"Well, one thing that must be considered is that according to the law …"

"I don't want you reciting all those laws, articles or fucking amendments," Dick said in a challenging tone; showing certain satisfaction seeing that he turned out to be so predictable. "I want you using your judgment as you did when you helped that strawberry cake girl the other day."

With pierced pride Arnold held his breath but didn't let himself feel intimidated. So using his judgment he did. He walked forward to the table and touched the layout at the time he uttered what he thought.

The first thing had to be done, no matter what. The second has to be rethought…

"… And regarding the employment contracts, the ones of the new hires I mean, I'd say we wait to be there and check if the ones of the old personal are observed to the letter. The ones that they showed us could have been manipulated to give the right impression. In any case, I'm pretty sure we can make changes to our advantage. We're going to sign over a thousand of new contracts. We have the upper hand. We could set our own chart of salaries, wages and benefits. They can't fight back since they assume that'd be the way we do things."

Dick let out a cocked grin that lit up his eyes.

"I knew it!" He patted his back. "I knew you had it in you!"

But Arnold didn't hear anymore as the rest of the guys acted as usual. Some of them grinned; some other looked at him with suspicion, but he was too shocked to pay them any more attention. Did he just say that they should look for a way to affect the workers' wages? Him, Arnold P. Shortman? …

What had he become?

* * *

.

"Maybe that's how they all become tough guys," Claire said as to herself. Then inhaled deeply "Maybe that's the way how people become tough."

"Then maybe it's not a good idea that I stay long with them." He thought aloud.

"Nonsense!" She pouted, giving him one of those smiles. "Tough guys have their appeal."

Then she came on to him and made him forgot the world. There was spirited action and not much more talking that night. Claire's lately understanding of his manly needs would be becoming suspicious… if only he wondered why.

But wondering wasn't something that he did willfully. And he didn't because he wasn't ready to spent conscious time thinking why after those passionate, mind-blowing sessions he came back to reality to get surprised by the fact that his partner had curly brown hair.

He'd take a deep intake and would silence his weary insides; choosing not to think if a similar situation happened to her; if she also felt something was wrong with her partner; if instead of a blond guy she expected seeing someone else? Her partner teacher for instance, or one of the fancy guys from her new charity gang

* * *

…

Arnold thought and thought abstractly as he went through his Facebook homepage at the time they continued waiting for the rest of the guys to go '_party_' tonight. Photos, photos and more photos; shallow-minded commentaries disguised as profound truths; and the occasional touch of real wisdom that pullulated in there. He wondered about the amount of pictures that people poured into the site per day; one single day. He'd read it once but didn't remember now. It was an absurd, inconceivable amount.

And none of those was from Helga. He sighed.

Helga wasn't the great user of the social networks. She thumbed up other people photographs occasionally and commented few and far in between; much as he did. Her profile had a few pictures. Mutual friends like Rhonda and Phoebe had a few snapshots that included her but Arnold had already seen them all. Her homepage didn't show her real life at all, only that she existed. There were no family pictures nor Henry's. No Deb, Dick or anyone else's from work. But there was one of her and Luke. He was taking her by the waist in a clearly possessive way. Arnold recalled her statement about him being just a good friend.

He now doubted it.

* * *

…

On Sunday afternoon Arnold and Claire went out to celebrate their third anniversary and some kind of departing celebration as well. It all started with a stroll in Central Park that was followed by dinner and a show. They came across Helga and Luke who were also promenading in the Park. They didn't actually meet them. The other couple paced ahead, walking their dog; a shih tzu that was a cute ball of white and brown hair.

They looked relaxed, wearing matching shorts and tennis shoes; Helga's hair was in a ponytail. Arnold thought he had never seen her so casual, so calm. They couldn't stop talking and laughing all the time. He hadn't seen her wearing shorts either, at least since childhood. Her legs were long and perfectly shaped, and tanned, and...

The only taint was the guy whose hands went to touch her every time he got a chance. Every time she crouched down to help the small dog to keep going. He hated it. And then, when suddenly she bent over and the guy got behind her and caressed her hips in a very intimate way. Arnold felt his head burn. Helga got up with the dog in her hands, and shoved him. Playfully. Then planted a quick kiss on his lips. Arnold held his breath.

Claire was also observing them with attention. She laughed after the kiss.

"He's so gay!" she exclaimed. Arnold turned to her with a face that couldn't hide his fury.

"Mmph… mmm…" he paused. Even forming words was difficult to him at that moment.

Claire looked at him, amused.

"For God's sake!" she laughed "Don't be a fool. There's no reason to be jealous!" and she ended elbowed him.

"I'm not jealous!" Arnold puffed.

"Right…" Claire rolled his eyes, but didn't speak anymore.

Arnold was dying for listening to whatever else she had to say about this Luke guy but didn't dare to challenge his luck. Claire could be a jealous bitch when she wanted and he didn't want to spoil the second to last night at home. They turned around heading towards the restaurant; and Arnold turned his head one last time to see them buying a candy apple like some teenager couple.

…

* * *

…

Back then at his last day at the office when Arnold finally turned his attention to the girls they were talking about their things again. He walked on leaving them alone. Later that day Helga reached him at his spot and pulled to hold him in a tight hug. Since Arnold hadn't seen her coming he froze because the surprise and the nearness.

"You're so huggable!" she laughed softly against his ear "Oh Arnold, I'm leaving now, but I didn't want to do it without saying goodbye." He turned a deep shade of red when she kissed him. "Have a nice trip, Football Head. See you then."

"I…" Arnold mustered up all his self-control to stop himself from don't letting go and kissing her lips instead. His mates in the other desks were looking at them. He knew it because all those small laughers. "T… thanks."

"You'll be alright?" she asked; her face still too close. He nodded.

"Yeah," he exhaled, trying to control his breathe. She was almost his same height. Those incredibly eyes were full of sparkles. "Of course I'll be alright."

She patted his cheek.

"That's good to hear."

He knew he was smiling like an idiot, but then felt like an actual moron when she gave a step back and he could see Henry standing there at the end of the hallway, looking at him with an amused expression. He waved Arnold with a single movement of his hand as Helga got close to him. Then they went on; his hand at her elbow. Arnold saw them go feeling confused, lost, knowing he wouldn't see her for a while. And wondering who was the man who shared Helga's bed; Henry or Luke?

_… Or both?_

. . .

* * *

**Thanks guys for reading and reviewing this. Special thanks to José Ramiro, Nep2uune, Presley Rox, CarlinJ83 and heyarnoldfangirl for their reviews. See you soon.**

**I don't own Hey Arnold! I don't own Strawberry Shortcake, The Monsters, Facebook or any other TM mentioned in this story. I own the plot and the OC.**

**This is just a short start. There are another couple of chapters coming covering Arnold business trip. They are half written would be about this length and still need a good deal of work to be ready. Still I hope to publish them in a week or so. Reviews might encourage my writing. ;)**

**March 11th, 2015.**

**Happy Friday the Thirteenth!**


	14. Business Travel Part Two

**Rocket to the Moon**

**Chapter Fourteen**

**Business Trip Part Two**

* * *

AN. Alright, I promised myself I was going to post it today so here I am. This chapter was longer but I cut it in two parts because I couldn't finish checking it. Part three will be here on April's Fool Day. I mean it. Most of you know I'm some kind of accountant and by the end of the month I'm lost in paperwork. If I finish sooner I might post. Spanish version of this one (Part Two) will be here tomorrow. Thank you for your sympathy.

* * *

.

Where were we?

.

"You're so huggable!" she laughed softly against his ear "Oh Arnold, I'm leaving now, but I didn't want to do it without saying goodbye." He turned a deep shade of red when she kissed him. "Have a nice trip, Football Head. See you then."

"I…" Arnold mustered up all his self-control to stop himself from not letting go and kissing her lips instead. His mates in the other desks were looking at them. He knew it because all those small laughers. "T… thanks."

"You'll be alright?" she asked; her face still too close. He nodded.

"Yeah," he exhaled, trying to control his breathe. She was almost his same height. Those incredibly eyes were full of sparkles. "Of course I'll be alright."

She patted his cheek.

"That's good to hear."

He knew he was smiling like an idiot, but then felt like an actual moron when she gave a step back and he could see Henry standing at the end of the hallway, looking at him with an amused expression. He waved Arnold with a single movement of his hand as Helga got close to him. Then they went on; his hand at her elbow. Arnold saw them go feeling confused, sad, knowing he wouldn't see her for a while. And wondering who the man who shared Helga's bed was. Henry or Luke?

_… Or both?_

* * *

. . .

"_So… what time is over there?" _

White letters appeared on top of the screen of his phone. Arnold smiled. Good old Claire. She was at work and still she made time to keep up with him when her pupils were at their playtime. He really appreciated her efforts. He took air as he turned to see the clock on the wall, and then wrote back.

… "Eight and…

… A quarter-

… PM."

A second later the reply arrived.

\- "_Here is quarter to eleven AM. _

_\- I think I'll never get accustomed to that offset half an hour"_

… "Tell me about it!" Arnold snorted

… "Though the truth is that I only recall it when it's time to talk to America"

\- "_Something you don't do QUITE often, by the way"_

Arnold made a face. He wasn't keeping his promise to call every day.

… "We've been really busy."

… Next time I hear someone is having a business trip

… I'll show my respect.

… They're no vacations,

… At all."

Maybe he should add that it wasn't easy to shun the rest of the guys when you were sharing most of your time with them.

\- "_If you say so…" _she answered.

There was a long pause then. Arnold understood. She was at work so she was probably busy. Nonetheless a couple of minutes later she resumed the conversation.

\- "_BTW, _

_\- Isn't it too late to be still at the office?"_

_\- I mean, _

_\- there are still people working over there _

_\- or_

_\- You guys are only losing your time?"_

Arnold raised his sight to see Woody also focused on his cellphone. Then he looked around. The truth was that there were only the six of them and a couple of local guys who were 'losing their time' in here. They were actually waiting for Dick and Stan to join them.

… "Well, the plant is already closed.

… We just finished our job but we're still waiting for the others so the driver takes the bunch to the hotel."

The back of his neck itched and he scratched it gently. He wasn't being quite sincere.

\- "_Because of Dick again?" she asked._

Arnold could almost feel Claire's snort vibrating through the wireless communication.

\- "_That man never gets to see his watch or what?!" _She ended the line with an angry red face.

There it was. Sometimes he wondered why he told her so many specifics about his work. Feeling guilty about his indiscretion he felt compelled to defend the boss.

… "I dare to say, -

… He's the one who works the hardest."

He felt dumb just sending it. Was he becoming another one of the puppies? Claire made another pause. Arnold wondered if she was angry or if she was about to get busy again.

\- "_You've been there for over two weeks." _She finally answered after good two minutes.

_\- Don't tell me the workload hasn't lessened a bit."_

Arnold took an intake.

… "Well…"

… It's changed,

… But I think it hasn't lessened,

… Not even a bit…"

. . .

* * *

.

Arnold evoked when they first arrived to Tiruppur. It was Wednesday early afternoon. Someone was waiting for them by International Arrivals holding the customary 'Mueller' signboard; then they were driven right to the location.

They didn't have time to recover from the twenty-two hours long trip; nobody showed them the city; no one asked them if they were okay; if the jet lag was affecting them; nobody showered them with any pleasantries. There was no time for that. It wasn't the first time Arnold took a long trip, but definitively it was his first going right to the workplace without a pause.

The plant they arrived to was being remodeled on the exterior. About two dozen workers with safety vests and helmets were changing the old façade. Fortunately the interior was untouched and the usual activity wasn't being affected. The great amount of people in the place and their natural curiosity about the visitors didn't go unnoticed by the blond.

His partners observed everything with measuring looks, but to Arnold everything was new, colorful, shocking. It was the first time he stepped into an industrial space, let alone in a foreign one. What he saw was a place full with activity and people going all the ways around. It was until the guys started mentioning about this and that he paid attention to the details. Yes, it was true that the place was crowded; and yes it was also true that it seemed that the Hygiene, Security and Environment Department didn't follow to the letter the international regulations, but at least the feverish activity made them forget about the fatigue.

"Helga's order was clear." Leo Nielsen told Dick later as he, Stan and Arnold walked around the place. The others were already taking care of their own affairs. Leo was Helga's right hand man "She asked me to clean this up a bit before your arrival."

For 'cleaning' Arnold supposed he meant that the place was a worse mess before. Arnold understood that the principal problem they faced was that despite its size so far the enterprise had been managed by a family so it'd been lacking a proficient management. Taking in their reactions the bosses seemed to be already aware of this.

He was also conscious that there was certain feeling of suspicion in the air, coming from both parts, but once they started working together they realized the fears were unfounded. It may be some people who still saw the strangers as invaders but most of them welcomed their presence and expertise. Before working with this team he'd thought Dick's Pack was some kind of invaders; a group of people who weren't well received because they were there to conquest, to overwhelm; but they were just the guys who did the job, and that was that. He also realized it was here where everything started; the plants. Mueller could be a financial, multinational corporation but in the end its foundation laid on places like this.

He also understood that despite all what Arnold had learned about them, his travel partners were professional through and through… at least in the office. They acted like gentleman. Marty and Stan who used to be inconsiderate were now kind, gentle and helpful; Mike, who couldn't stop flirting for the sake of it, was now respectful even to the girls who looked at him with their bright, beautiful, coquettish eyes. The most changed seemed Dick himself. Despite all what he had witnessed previously once arriving to India his peculiar temper was under control. He seemed to have morphed into an entirely different person; someone nicer and approachable. It was as if the Mueller inside him stood out and made him become the image of the ideal boss. Even physically he was more appealing. He was the one who attracted the most eyes. Arnold laughed remembering the guys had started teasing Mike about being jealous.

* * *

…

\- "_By the way love," _ His phone shook again

_\- How is your stomach? _

_\- Are you getting any better?"_

Arnold smirked but his stomach churned anyway.

… "I think so

… I started eating again."

_\- "Good :)__"_

As if prompted by Claire's last message, Woody interjected:

"So where are we having dinner tonight?" A few grunts were heard.

"At the bar?" Kyle offered. Even Arnold rolled his eyes. The guy never learnt or what?

"I think we could get some sandwiches at the hotel." Ben, the redhead answered.

"We're not heading to the hotel, man!" Woody shook his head.

"Dude, you're the only one who thinks about food right now." Mike derided.

"I could see that…" Woody said with sarcasm.

"We should have asked the people in the kitchen for some Mueller Chicken to go." Marty pointed out what was Arnold was actually thinking.

Mueller Chicken was pan-broiled chicken breast with oil, salt and nothing else. Steamed vegetables as side plate, and that's it. A delicacy. Mueller Chicken and sandwiches were all what keep them alive after the second week. The kitchen crew in the plant made it up for them after realizing they weren't eating.

They all have fallen sick by the end of the first week after indulging themselves into the exotic and strong flavors of masala. 'No spices, please' was the collective prayer after that.

"I swear you man! The first thing I'll do back home is getting a Big Mac and super-size fries!"

Arnold chortled at the expression of deep craving in Ben's young face. He better didn't say a thing about his need to cling to any Britney Spears / Miley Cyrus / whatever pop music that reached his ears. He never thought nostalgia could felt like that; like a funny quivering sensation that wrenched your insides.

The worst part that was the end of the trip felt so far away. The intense workload wasn't the problem anymore. Arnold wondered if Mueller Chicken was going to be received with good pleasure by their stomachs for as longer as one more week. He also wondered why this kind of things still happened to guys who travel this much…

A sudden idea came to his mind as he took his phone and opened the Facebook Messenger again. He hesitated for a couple of seconds before select Helga Pataki from his chat list. He had being doing this for days now. Always wanting to start a conversation; looking for a good excuse just to ask anything to her. Today it seemed as better excuse than ever.

But then he changed his mind and opened Whatsapp instead. It seemed a better option since their last conversation in Facebook dated from about two months ago.

… "Hi Helga" he typed and sent.

… How are you doing?"

… I just wanted to ask something

… How do you do to keep your stomach settled when you travel?

… I'm feeling really ill…

Arnold paused. Then reread his rant.

… I'm not that bad,

… Don't worry.

… But eating is becoming a pain in the ass."

Then he stopped. The check marks were two already but they hadn't turned blue yet. He decided he'd wait for her response before start writing again, but at that moment the door opened and Stan appeared in there, clapping once his hands.

"Let's go motherfuckers!" he called with his thunder voice and a big smile in his face. "Ya ready to have fun?"

As they ran to the door Arnold couldn't help but think that they looked like a group of scholars at the sound of the last bell of the day; almost as if they had never seen a door before. They all got up and hurried out of the plant and towards the van walking and talking cheerfully. But instead of being a group of kids who were being delivered to their homes, this group of full-grown adults would be taken to a… strip club.

* * *

. . .

It was the second time they did it. Leo suggested the place since he'd been in town for a while and he knew better. Last week some of they were escorted by the new general manager and one of the guys from production, but tonight that the group were complete and the party was only them.

Arnold was an adult and had been at gentlemen's clubs before, so he didn't make a fuss. He was okay with having some kind of entertainment after a hard week; He was okay with reaching their table and being approached by girls who drank a drink to their expense. He was okay even with making small talk with such ladies who wore vaporous clothes at the Indian usage or just plain scarce and sexy lingerie. He even accepted their attentions for a while. He also agreed to pay for a second drink. But he turned around for a way to escape when lap dances began to sprout all around him. He saw Woody taking a seat right in front of the stage.

"Excuse me…" he mumbled and ran to his side. From his new seat at Woody' side he turned his head. The girl he had despised was now with Stan who didn't seem to have problems handling two girls at the time. The rest of the guys seemed to be just fine with a girl seated on their lap, though –truth to be told- not all of them were having an active participation like said Stan or Mike did. Marty and Kyle were gawping at the girls who 'danced' on them. Dick and Ben were slower; they were still indulging with small talks, drinks and just allowing themselves to be pampered.

"I assumed you were going to misbehave tonight." Woody said with an amused look, turning forward to see the performance of the girls onstage. "Though I'm glad we don't have another Ralph amongst us. I'd be a shame."

"You know I'm not that into it," he told him "So that was Ralph problem?" He asked after a girl brought him a new beer. He had already supposed something of the like but never dug too much into it.

Woody shrugged his voluminous shoulders. "Kinda…" but then he snorted "Actually I think he was even worse than those two." He pointed to Stan and Mike with a move of his head. Arnold turned to see the guys again and shook his head. They looked like those politicians caught red-handed of the tabloids. Then he looked around, warily, expecting that none of the presents in the poorly lit hall would be a paparazzi or worse, but then dismissed it. They weren't that important. The sight brought Helga's words to his mind then.

"_Be a good kid, Football Head…"_

Woody talked instead about himself and his decision to be precisely 'a good kid' as he followed the erotic movements of the girls on the platform. His thoughts were similar to Arnold's. They had all what they wanted at home; didn't think being a man meant that they have the right to play around without restraint.

Well, he looked at the girls nonetheless. He always marveled at their flexibility. Arnold thought seeing them contorting against the poles. It was also amazing how beauty could be so diverse and so specific at the same time. They were mainly Indian girls, but there were of all kind too. Europeans, Asiatic, African, Latinas. Girls for all tastes. There were patrons of all kinds too.

Woody elbowed him and pointed to the guys table. Some of them were missing, but Woody was certainly pointing to Stan who was disappearing in the midst of suggestive curtains that appeared behind a secret door, with at least four girls surrounding him. Arnold snorted and rolled his eyes. He turned to his big friend whose lips drew out a sneer.

"You don't know Stan until you really get to 'know' him." he took a sip of his beer. "Ralph was the same…" then turned to the table again "And Mike," he added "but that one you already know."

That was true. Last week they have been at the same club but it was a shorter visit. Some of the guys also disappeared behind the hidden door for a while, but to midnight they were all back at the hotel. They had a curfew. Dick and Stan hadn't made it. They both and Leo attended to a social reunion with the former owners of the plant. But today it was another story. The bosses were here and sure they knew how to enjoy life. Ben came to his table and kept them company for a while. He was about Arnold's age and the youngest of the group, and seemed that he still hadn't made his mind about being naughty or not. He kept asking Arnold if he was going to tell to his girlfriend all what had happened in here.

"What happens in India stays in India." He replied with a smirk and then Bob took one last sip to his drink and went back to the guys table. The guys table was just a way to say it. It was only Kyle and Ben now… and the girls, of course.

"Seems that we are the only ones who aren't getting fun, huh?" he pronounced, not sure if he sounded like a dunce. Woody smiled with indulgence and pointed discreetly behind him. Arnold turned his head. Dick was a few tables away, all by himself, drinking from his scotch; his eyes fixed on the girl dancing before him.

"I didn't see him coming back." Arnold mumbled taking another sip of his beer and moving his seat so he wasn't giving him his back. "He's fast!" Couldn't help but add a hint of sarcasm. Woody kept looking at the girls. Arnold also looked. The girl he'd been looking at particularly wasn't performing anymore. He turned around but didn't find the long haired blonde anywhere.

"Been there all along." Woody finally supplemented.

"Who?" he frowned "The blonde…?"

Woody laughed.

"Dick." He replied. "Your blonde went backstage."

"Oh," Arnold said, disappointed. Then looked around. She might come out. He caught sight of the boss again. He was looking at his whisky with absent eyes. "He doesn't look happy."

His companion followed his sight. "Dick is never happy."

"Why?" he asked. Woody shrugged.

"He's always been like that."

Arnold nodded, turning to see him; he was looking at the girls again. He ended his drink and left the glass on the table and raised his sight to see Arnold and Woody observing him. Dick held their sights but Arnold turned to the stage again. Didn't want to taste his luck tonight.

"He's weird." Arnold mumbled. Then held his breath; never thought he'd say it aloud; to one of his unconditional friends, nonetheless.

"Nah!" Woody dismissed him "He's just different."

Arnold shrugged. But then opened wide his eyes and turned the guy again.

"_Different?"_ he asked, louder than he intended.

"Shhh!" Woody slapped the back of his neck as he tried to hide his grin. "Not that kind of different, you dumbass!"

"Hey!" Arnold touched his nape where he still felt the blow. Woody was laughing openly now.

"Look at you! Mr. Right - running to conclusions!"

"We're talking about girls here!" Arnold protested "You said he was different! Hellow!"

"Well, certainly not that kind of different!" Woody took another swig as he looked at him with amused eyes.

"Alright. Thank you for pointing out this clear to me. He's straight; just different. Big deal." Arnold grumbled "Why do I have to know it anyway?" he rolled his eyes, touching his nape again.

"Right."

But then remembered what 'being different' meant nowadays he turned to his partner again. "Oh, you mean 'different'" he made quotation marks in the air and turned to see Dick under a new light. He was raising his glass in the air asking for a new drink. "Kind of fits him."

"No. You're wrong again," Woody only shook his head this time, unamused. "Man!" he slapped his forehead, leaning on the table. "How hard could it be?" he complained.

"It's okay. It doesn't matter anyway." Arnold shrugged, nonchalantly. The blond boy turned to the scene letting him alone. It seemed that his friend was getting drunk pretty fast.

"Actually it does matter." Woody raised his head looking thoughtful. "I don't want to see you later saying what I didn't say; or having the wrong impression. We're here and we're gonna be here for another long week so…" he turned to see Dick and then leaned in to speak in low voice.

"Just to end with this, the boss is not gay," he started "and he's not a sadist, - so far I know, - he's just…" he vacillated.

"Different?" Arnold offered, teasing. Woody scoffed, then turned up as if giving up

"Scrupulous…" He finally pronounced.

"Scrupulous?" Arnold raised his sight, showing his confusion. "You mean…?"

"…about bugs," his friend ended. "There you have." Woody leaned back in his chair and took another swig of his beer. "He's picky. He never takes risks."

"Really?" Arnold turned to see the guy in the other table again. Under a new sight. Okay, he was still weird to his eyes but his weirdness now made sense.

"He… doesn't go out then?" he asked. But then remembered the Ball where he met him first and his stunning date. Eva.

"Oh - he goes out," Woody left the almost empty bottle on the table. "But he has his 'girlfriends'." Arnold looked at him inquiring "I mean there are several… selected… girls he sees." The big bloke disclosed "Gorgeous girls I can tell."

"Really?" the guy nodded. "I think I met one…" Arnold uttered casually "Eva?"

Woody opened expressively his eyes. "Oh, my God, Eva! How to forget her?!" he turned around to look for a waiter. "Though she's history now."

"Is she?" Arnold frowned. Why was he being so inquisitive? Did Eva's fate worry him? Because it wasn't as if he really cared about Dick's love life. What did Claire have to say if she knew he was asking about her?

_What happens in India stays in India_. Arnold thought to himself. Then he remembered his sweet girlfriend. Sweet…. Arnold sighed. The truth was that his 'sweet' girlfriend was far from being actually sweet. Not that she was a bad person; not at all, she was great in fact. But their relationship was different. It had morphed. They weren't the same. Arnold couldn't believe that six months ago he was planning on proposing to her… six months…. God! There had been six months already?

He had been so jealous witnessing Gerald domestic happiness that he'd wanted it to himself. But the Claire who shared his bed now wasn't what came to his mind when he thought about children and domestic happiness. Claire was changed. The time they spent together she used to remain lost in thoughts. He had always been a daydreamer himself so her retreat didn't bother him, but he should confess that hers was odd. Half of the time he didn't know what was she thinking. And then there was this newly found passion in their lives that somewhat felt misplaced. Why he felt that way? Well, maybe because when they weren't making love like animals the rest of the time their interaction was roommate-like; if not brother/sister- like.

"Well, that's the one I recall the most; Rachel was the name. She even went to look for him at work just because she 'was bored'. But that was long ago. I think that was when he lost the liking because he stopped bringing girls altogether," Woody was still talking "They even stopped coming to reach him."

"Really?" Arnold asked half interested.

Woody nodded. But then laughed. "That's why our travels last three weeks tops." Woody turned around, looking for a waiter again. "The guys say it's his limit."

Arnold mimicked Woody's snort. He turned to see the aforementioned guy and saw that he was being approached by a girl who brought him a dish and a new drink. Arnold strained to see the plate. God, he was hungry! For a second Dick looked askance but then smiled. The girl smiled too. Then she left him and came towards them.

"On the house," she smiled leaving their plates in front of them "Another drink?" then asked with her thick accent.

"Please." Arnold replied copying her nice smile.

"Don't stop bringing them up, honey!" Woody looked very happy. For a second Arnold thought he was going to slap the girl's butt. Fortunately he didn't. They went right for the plate. Grilled salmon; a pinch of pepper. It was yummy; had the taste of the roast beef. Seemed that the bar had better chefs than the hotel. Arnold questioned aloud how the bar could afford having salmon on the house for the patrons and Woody let out a good-humored laugh in response.

"It seems to me that you haven't seen the cost of the drinks, right?"

He actually hadn't. He never knew who the one who paid last time was, but it hasn't been him, that's for sure. He asked Woody then. Woody pointed with the fork to his left.

"We have a helluva boss or what?!" he answered with a laugh, adding that the girls were – of course- on their own account. They went on happily eating and delighting in the show.

"Where were we?" Woody asked after a while. His plate has been left aside; he was a big eater. Arnold ate without hurry. He still feared he'd get sick again.

"The girls go on our own." He said without thinking; then laughed. Maybe alcohol was taking its toll on him too. He laughed harder at the simple thought. "The boss is the best!" he blurted out.

"To the boss!" Woody toasted, raising his bottle. Dick was looking at his phone but raised his sight at the sound; a questioning look appeared in his face, but then smirked and went back to his phone.

"He chooses his phone instead of the view?" Arnold scoffed "Bugs aren't spread through the sight." He said with derision. Woody directed him a surprised look but then he shrugged. He didn't know why he was being so nasty. He kinda liked Dick after all. Besides, being careful about infections was a very sensible decision.

Blame the alcohol.

"It may be his girlfriend," the dark haired man uttered, exhaling long.

"There is _a_ girlfriend?" he asked. That was a novelty.

"That's a way to say it." Woody shrugged his shoulders. "Regina Brennan?" he looked at him with risen eyebrows.

"Glen Brennan's relative?" He asked back.

"His daughter." Woody nodded. Arnold whistled. Glen Brennan was one of the principal shareholders of the company. The second on board in fact; he came just behind Henry, though Henry's almost doubled his part.

"So all in the family, huh?"

"Not so sure," Woody turned to see Dick again. He was looking at the girls but his silver iPhone was still in his hands. "They've been going out for years but the relation doesn't seem to progress. I have the impression that Dick doesn't like…

"Impositions? I have that impression too."

Woody nodded with an ample movement of his head. "That, and the fact that Dick keeps seeing other women."

"Interesting…" Arnold opened big his eyes and wriggled his brows as he nodded. Then he snorted realizing that would be exactly Claire's expression if she ever got to know…. If she ever …

"Where is the hurry when your name is Dick Mueller, right?" Woody asked as he raised his hand to call for another beer. Almost immediately a girl arrived with a double supply. Arnold got on his feet. He needed to discharge some liquid before going on.

…

* * *

**As I told you up there, I had to cut it off somewhere. Here's a sneak peek of next chapter.**

* * *

. . .

He looked the decoration with critical eye. It was excessive. The fabrics, colors, designs, every single detail was suggestive; it tried to put you in the mood; as if the pure sight of the girls wasn't enough.

After drying his hands in a towel Arnold drew out his cellphone. Whatsapp showed a tiny three in a red circle. Greg, Claire and Helga's names were in bold letters at the top of the list. He read Greg first; he wished him a nice weekend. Arnold used to keep in contact with Greg; at least twice a day they talked to each other, work related or not. Arnold wrote back similar wishes to the Legal sub director and went on.

Claire… she sent a snap of a big fat burger and a caption. '_Remember the Memphis? - It's back! - Only for a while…. And they aren't gonna bring it back in a million years!' _Arnold grinned. The Memphis was like an urban legend_. _Carl's Jr. had it once about three years ago and was never seen again. 'I'm sure they are' he wrote back but stopped before sending it. When she read it she'd realize he was awake and it was past midnight. He thought twice. But then again she'd know he read it because those damn blue checkmarks. He sent it anyway. Then added: 'I'm going to bed. See you tomorrow." To make sure she got the impression he was in bed. He should keep in mind do not read any more Claire messages tonight. But rereading it he felt something was missing and added "Miss u."

Without wanting to think too much about it, or why he left Helga's message until the end he finally he breathed deeply. His forefinger touched Helga's name. He reread his last messages.

… How do you do to keep your stomach settled when you travel?

…

…

…

* * *

**That's it all for now.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hey Arnold!and blah blah blah  
**

**See you in a couple of days.**

**March 29, 2015.**


	15. Business Travel Part Three

**Rocket to the Moon**

**Chapter Fifteen**

**Business Travel Part Three**

* * *

…

He looked around the washroom decoration with critical eye. It was excessive. The fabrics, colors, designs, every single detail was suggestive, tried to put you in the mood; as if the pure sight of the girls wasn't enough.

After drying his hands in a towel Arnold drew out his cellphone. Whatsapp showed a tiny nineteen in a red circle. Greg, Claire and Helga's names were in bold letters at the top of the list. He got Greg first; he wished him a nice weekend. Arnold used to keep in contact with Greg; at least twice a day they talked to each other, work related or not. Arnold wrote back similar wishes to the Legal vicepresident and went on.

Claire… she sent a snap of a big fat burger and a caption. '_Remember the Memphis? - It's back! - Only for a while…. And they aren't gonna bring it back in a million years!' _Arnold smiled. The Memphis was like an urban legend_. _Carl's Jr. had it once about three years ago and was never seen again. 'I'm sure they are,' he wrote back but stopped before sending it. When she read it she'd realize he was awake and it was past midnight. He thought twice. But then again she'd know he read it because those damn blue checkmarks. He sent it anyway. Then added: 'I'm going to bed. See you tomorrow.' To make sure she got the desired impression. He should keep in mind do not read any more Claire messages tonight. But rereading it he felt something was missing and added a "Miss u" for good measure.

Without dwelling too much upon it or why he left Helga's message at the end, he finally breathed deeply. His forefinger touched Helga's name. He reread his last messages.

… How do you do to keep your stomach settled when you travel?

… I'm feeling really ill…

… I'm not that bad,

… Don't worry.

… But eating is becoming a pain in the ass."

'_What a dumb'_ he grumbled inwardly. It was so obvious he was making small talk.

\- "Poor, poor Football Head!" she started, adding a big grin.

\- "At least it's not the head. It'd be a huge problem!

\- "Just kidding :P

\- "So, travel advice, huh?

\- "Try water,"

\- "Commercial bread,

\- "And canned fruits.

\- "Not the best, but we're in surviving mode, right?

\- "When you're back you can treat yourself, oh yeah!

\- "But you know?

\- "You still can have almost everything,

\- "Just take tiny bit portions.

\- "I mean itsy bitsy teenie weenie…

\- "Hope you get better."

There had been a pause, and a last message added five minutes later. She'd written back only twenty minutes ago.

\- "Have a nice evening, Arnold.

\- "See you on the 23rd."

Arnold touched the screen and the keyboard appeared. He typed "Are you coming?" and sent back without hesitation. Their departure was scheduled on the 24th. That meant she was going to meet them _here_? The simple thought brought a smile to his lips. It'd be nice to see Miss Pataki in here. He raised his sight and stared at the Kama Sutra's pictures on the walls. Well, not precisely in here.

Although…

He knew then the exact kind of thoughts that would keep him tossing and turning in bed tonight.

* * *

. . .

Expectation was in the air on the morning of Tuesday 23rd of September when he went downstairs to have breakfast. At first he thought it was only him, when he met the guys at their usual table they weren't talking about the shitty hotel, the malfunctioning air conditioning, or the damn bugs that run free all over the place for once. Instead, they all talked about their upcoming leaving, the visit of Government functionaries this afternoon, and the arriving of 'the bitch'.

Arnold listened in silence. He'd already realized they actually talked shit about Helga when the bosses weren't present. He really couldn't understand their infantile behavior because if you observed with attention you could see that they actually kind of anticipated her presence. Still, as the nice guy he always was he remained quiet, talking to Marty about the labor of the day when Stan and Mike arrived. Mike was already freshly bathed and shaved, like Arnold himself and most of the guys, but Stan was another story. Looking at his face Arnold could tell he had had a girl over again. He was still grumbling when he took the seat in front of him.

"You think you'll be ready on time?" Ben asked, throwing him an admonishing look

"The car can wait." Stan spoke with his booming voice. He was talking about the van who should be taking them to the plant at eight sharp. "By the way," the big tall blond directed his blue sight to Arnold "I don't know what are you doing today but Helga will need you. You better hurry."

"Alright." Arnold nodded casually, taking a bit of his toast. "What time is she arriving?" he asked him. Helga never replied his question of Friday's night.

"Before noon." The big blond continued eating "On that line," he added "she might be asking you to stay too."

"What?" Arnold choked on his coffee when he heard him.

Stan let out a strident laugh. He wiped his mouth with a napkin.

"She's staying until Thursday," he informed "She might need someone else besides Dick and I'm afraid it'd be you, Legal. Lucky boy!" He wriggled his brows and laughed again.

"Dick is remaining behind?" Kyle asked, surprised. Stan nodded and let the fork on the side.

"Yeah, he was swearing like a sailor last night when I went to see him." Stan chuckled "Left him alone. I'm glad he went out to get some release afterwards."

"What?"

"Boss got laid?!"

"Can you blame him?" he retorted.

"All that noise… It was him then?" Mike chuckled. "I thought it was you."

"What you heard it was me!" Stan cracked another laugh "Dick is quieter. But what about him, huh?" he whistled "I'm happy he's back."

And he went back to his pancakes.

"I guess that's what happens when you're said you're gonna stay in a lousy place like this longer than you expected." Ben pondered.

"Maybe you should go out tonight to get a girl for yourself, Arnold." Woody elbowed him. Arnold snorted.

"Maybe I do." He uttered. Marty patted his back. Arnold smirked and then turned to his own plate, shaking his head. As if his mind needed any more incentive. It had been reeling back to those brass dancing poles, the damn pictures and all the paraphernalia from that whorehouse disguised as a bar. He grumbled "Or better don't".

* * *

. . . . . . .

Helga arrived earlier than expected and by eleven o'clock he was called to the meeting room that served her as office. He knocked the door and opened it. She was leaning behind a guy who was seated at the table, looking over his shoulder as he was working on some papers. She turned to see him. A frown was perched on her forehead.

"Hey, Shortman," she greeted him curtly. "Come in."

'_So, last-name terms, huh?'_ he thought as he closed the door behind him.

Arnold's eyes followed her tall feminine figure as she straightened and rounded the table. He took her in, her fairness, her blonde hair wrapped in a loose bun at the top of her head. She was stunning in her simple grey dress and red shoes. He found himself missing her warm hugs but he'd already supposed she kept her distance in here. As she approached, smirking, he realized he'd also missed her presence, her smiles, her smell. She met him halfway and handed him a bunch of papers.

"The particularities of the agreement just for you to see and…" she informed and then she gave him a single separate sheet "-my speech." She patted his shoulder with discretion. "Can you check it out for… you know… politic incorrectness and stuff of the kind?"

"Sure." Arnold nodded. He didn't know why he felt so nervous all of a sudden. It couldn't be that the dreams he'd been having lately had just been brought back by her closeness, could it?

"Great," she smirked and walked away and towards the man she'd been by when he arrived. There was another young man seated on the other side of the table. As Arnold took a seat and read the papers he kept an eye on her all of the time as she came and went around the room. She seemed worried, upset or tired… or it all together. After a while he realized that the second man was also raising continually his sight to steal glances at her too. He smirked and shook his head.

The agreement had already been checked by Deb, that's for sure; and Helga's speech was flawless. There wasn't even a synonym he'd change. It was short and concise. Didn't talk about the past but focused in the present and future saying that they were now part of a family and that everyone was an important member of it. That she herself felt honored and proud to be in here too. And finally she talked about Henry Mueller, the patriarch, whose philosophy was present in the actions of every one of the visitors, and overall, on his nephew who was going to continue the discourse.

Arnold told her so once she finished talking to the other guy.

"I couldn't have done it any better." He said.

"Thank you" she smirked. "Dick already showed you his part?"

"Huh," Arnold vacillated.

"Where's that son of a bitch that I haven't seen yet?" she grunted. She turned to place the papers in a folder and took her cellphone. A minute later she turned to the man she had been talking to. "So, do you get it now, Shankar?"

The man stood and showed her a paper filled with corrections.

"Yes." He said "I'm going change this and get it photocopied."

"Good…" she nodded after giving it an once-over. The man left the room. Then she turned to the youngster.

"Lalit," the young man juddered at the sound of her voice. Arnold hid his smile. He'd seen this kind of bashfulness only in girls so far. Many of the girls they greeted in their way through the aisles lowered their sights and blushed madly at they went through, but guys used to be open and friendlier. Possibly it has something to do with the fact that Helga was a woman. Arnold smiled when the boy let out a timid and barely audible sound:

"You could ask Shankar." He grumbled.

"But Shankar is a northerner." She exclaimed "You were born in here, right?" the guy nodded. Helga puffed, then turned to him and rolled her eyes. "Alright, you can go. But don't get lost. I don't want to be looking for you when I need you, capisci?" the boy nodded meekly and literally ran to the door.

Arnold walked to Helga who was shaking her head in an exasperated fashion.

"Can you believe it?!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air "I thought Raj Koothrappali was a fictional character!" she huffed, and a lock of blonde hair floated around her face. Arnold smirked.

"Have you thought that it might be your fault?"

"My fault?!" She looked at him with annoyance. "Are you going to say that I'm way too aggressive too?"

He smirked.

"No. I was actually going to say that you are way too 'attractive'." He got close; he could feel this strange boldness filling his being again; so challenging and so welcomed at the same time. "I've known you all my life and the solely sight of you still renders me speechless." He added in low husky voice.

"Oh, really?" she giggled and in a sudden movement she'd closed the distance between them until her lips got dangerously close "My dear Football Head," her fingers tunneled through his hair, brushing oh so slightly his earlobe. He fought back a shiver "Don't play with fire." She breathed slowly. "You won't like getting burnt."

Her lips fluttered on his and her breath warmed his face. It was so intoxicating; he closed his eyes and leaned forward; his breathe hitched; he could even feel her taste. Coffee. But when he was about to take her by the waist she laughed softly and got away. "The crappy tricks of those guys are rubbing off on you, it seems. Did you enjoy the visit to the brothel too? Found it useful?"

He opened his eyes to see she was by the table again; looking at the papers. She was having fun at his expense; that was sure.

"I… no… I…" he stuttered, trying to regain control. "Wait a second!" he shook his head "How do you know about … the bar?"

"It was a bar? Awwww!" she put on a tender face "How cute! Bad Helga! Look how evil-minded you are!"

"You really…"

"Don't give me that shit!" her attitude went through a sudden change "For God's sake, Arnold. Do you think I don't know those guys?"

Arnold smirked. It was weird how the old days rushed to his mind at the sudden display of all that latent aggressiveness; it brought back the old Helga; the girl who obtained information pretending she already knew everything. He shook his head showing skepticism.

"Come on Helga," he snorted "You and I both know you're not gonna make me talk about them."

"That's what you think? That I want some gossip?" She shrugged her shoulders. "What for? There's nothing you can tell me about them that I don't know already."

"Yeah, sure!" he laughed.

"You don't believe me? Alright, so please tell me, amigo, if only for the sake of keeping my database updated- Does… Stan still fancy multitudinous…hmm… 'deeds'? And Mike the womanizer; how many he did this time? Four, five? He counted them aloud?"

He blinked deliberately "Alright. What else?"

"Woody is a nice guy, though I have my own theories about his… niceness. Who else? …. Oh, the new kid, Ben, is he still trying too hard to fit? " she hummed "You know? Most of them start like him… and they actually ended like that, so watch out," she pointed to Stan who was passing by out of the window. "I'm not judging by the way." She faced him. "You guys can do whatever you want. It's none of my business." Then she turned to the table and opened her folder "Just don't come to me pretending…"

"And Dick… What about him?" Arnold asked.

"What about him?" She countered right away, leaving the papers alone.

"Don't you also know…him?" he insisted. She was looking at him right in the face.

"You sure you want to talk about Dick?" She asked almost in a warning fashion.

"Why not? People say he's different, and he still plays around. He went out last night. Everyone was oh-so surprised but…"

"Arnold, the guy is your boss. You should keep to yourself the things you learn about him."

"Does that mean that you don't know a thing about him?" Arnold felt the urge to tell her despite her warnings.

"'You shouldn't judge a book by its cover'" she uttered "That serves you?"

"You knew it?"

She dismissed him.

"You know Arnold," A stern expression appeared on her face as she turned to see the time in her cellphone "-that this all sounds like gossip to me? The kind of gossip that I hate because spread stuff that shouldn't concern anybody." She talked from the other side of the table "What if Dick Mueller like this or that? He has every right in the world to do what he wants and expect respect to his privacy from his close ones the same way you and I would expect."

"You started…"

"I know, I'm not scolding you, I was okay with this talking. I guess you're my friend and it was somewhat easy and funny to expose the guys," she paused "but when is about Dick that we talk I'd like to know you're keeping this to yourself. God knows we don't need any more tales about us." When she stopped her voice wasn't that severe.

"Why you always protect him?"

"It's the second time you say that, you know"

"It's curious…"

She chuckled "Why? He's not reciprocate?"

"Actually, he isn't."

She shrugged tiredly

"We're partners, Arnold. He's my friend. And I actually like him."

"Really?"

"Is that so hard to believe?" her mouth drew a slanted smile.

"I…" He thought for a while. Her phone buzzed and she took care of it.

"And what with this… animadversion… against Dick, can I know?" she turned to see him when she was done. "I thought you had become one of his faithful followers?"

"That's why you're so curt when he is around?"

"Look that you're sharp!" she didn't miss a beat; her brows high in an amused expression. "If that's another trait the guys rubbed off on you then I'm not complaining." She took a seat and crossed her legs. "Regarding your question I daresay that if I am kind of curt it's actually for your own good." She paused "Sorry didn't make it clear beforehand but I thought you'd understand. I mean, those guys, it's not a secret that they don't like me, which is totally fair, I like it this way. But if they ever know we're friends and we've known each other since childhood…" she shook her head "they're not gonna like it."

"Are you sure?"

"As sure as hell" she bowed her head.

"So what? Do you care? I mean, what they can do to me, after all?" he asked with skepticism.

"Well, Ar-nuld" she rolled her eyes, looking exasperated "As much as you see them as a bunch of horny out-phased teenagers, they are actually the Board of Directors. And you're just a guy from Legal whose boss still can't find him a private space." She gave him a cautious look. "Talking about your boss, it also happens that I don't want complicate things for her. She wants you working with Dick; she needs you there after Ralph withdrawal, so please, help me to keep this from them, wouldya?" he realized she addressed him with forced patience.

Arnold nodded. All of a sudden he wondered if she saw him as a stubborn and problematic employee. She turned to see her papers again.

"So we're still friends?" he asked. Probably it wasn't the most appropriate question giving that she snorted as she crossed her legs again; but for some strange and unknown reason he loved to taste her patience. He had already admitted to himself he liked to be close to her; liked to make an impression even if it only made her think he was immature and needed direction. He just couldn't let her go her merry way just saying hi as she did to any of the members of the staff she happens to run into. He looked to her for a long moment, and then walked on and took a seat at her side.

"So this is it?" He asked.

"It?" she was looking at the set of papers in front of her, her mind was somewhere else.

"I mean, everything?" he supplemented. She'd continued reading. Arnold took a look at the papers; they were some kind of official communication. "Do you still need me?" she finally raised her sight and looked at him, but her eyes were still absent.

Maybe that's why he wanted so dearly to make an impression. Those eyes, they were the same eyes that used to look at him with adoration; the eyes that examined him thoroughly trying to extract every single detail from him. Now she looked at him with indifference. He was an old acquaintance who she liked to keep close and that was it. The awareness was excruciating.

"Sorry Arnold. You were saying…?" She asked again.

"Do you still need me?"

"No, no. Sorry. I guess you still have things to do." She paused "Today is your last day in here, right?" He nodded.

"But Stan told me that you're gonna stay and you might need me," he didn't mind staying an extra couple of days.

"Hmmm…" She frowned. "No. I actually…" she set the papers aside "I actually need to fly to New Delhi because… other reasons." She looked at him in the eye. "Did Stan say something else?"

"No" he shrugged "Only that you asked Dick to stay… and you might need me too."

"Dick is gonna stay because it's something that also interests him, but he already knew it. Are you telling me that he…" she stopped abruptly "Never mind." She ended.

"Alright." He stood "So this is it?"

She nodded, in a paused uncertain way. He waved goodbye and walked to the door.

"Do you still are into poetry?" he asked from the door; surprising himself by the sudden question.

"Oh," she also seemed surprised but reacted quickly "Only with figures…" she wriggled the sheets in her hands. "You said you didn't check Dick speech, right?" she asked again, changing the subject. He turned and shook his head. "It'd be a good idea if you did."

"Maybe you should do it yourself." He replied from the door "Yours is perfect." Her face showed a lopsided grin "I guess I'll see you…"

"Wait!" she slapped her forehead "I remember now something I wanted to tell you!" she stood and walked towards him "Rhonda and I were thinking it'd be nice to meet one of these days. Our next reunion is on October 17th. What do you think? Do you think you could make it?" Her face changed. She was smiling again.

"I…"

"I understand if you need to give it a thought; to talk to your girlfriend since I'm asking only you to come. I mean, it's a not girlfriend stuff." She blinked, giving a step back.

"No girlfriend, huh?"

"Well, it's nothing against her, but since we want to go back in time and catch up it'd be nice to be only the three of us. If you bring her then Rhonda and I had to bring a date too and it wouldn't be the same."

"I guess you're right…"

"You don't have to ask for permission, do you?" she quipped, nudging his arm.

"No!" he exclaimed "Of course not! I…"

There was a knock in the door and instantly it was pushed open.

"Hey!" Dick stopped dead in his tracks. He looked at him, and then Helga and a furrow appeared in his forehead. For a moment Arnold feared the worst, but what was the worst, he wondered as Dick noticed the papers in Helga's hands. "Are you ready?" he asked her then. "It's getting late and we need you to go see to the second plant."

"Almost," Helga walked away to leave the papers on the table "You already saw it?"

"We got the keys on Friday," he nodded "By the way, this is Nirav Boparai, our new General Manager. Nirav, meet Helga Pataki, CFO…" Arnold stayed behind, looking at their interaction. Seemingly Dick had forgotten about him. The new manager had arrived on their second week; Arnold already met him, he was an okay guy. Still, he couldn't help but notice that he was also caught off guard by the attractive blonde who was shaking his hand.

"Nice to meet you."

Before leaving Helga turned to Arnold and let him know she'd be waiting for his response. Then the three of them headed to the exit. Arnold followed them for a while, until it was time for him to take a different aisle. As they walked away he noticed that Dick and Helga's clothes were exactly the same color; oxford grey. Her dark red shoes were the same shade of his tie too. His white shirt was a nice change from the blue he'd been using lately. He wondered if it all was casual.

Hours later he found the answer to his question. It was no casual. They were standing outside, in the middle of the two warehouses for the official presentation of the new administration in a ceremony that was honored by the presence of political and bureaucratic authorities, other businessmen, the media and hundreds of employees. It was a clouded day. The couple of blonds stood out on the dais wearing the colors of the restored plants; the same colors of the emblem that undulating in the central pole between the Indian and the American flags. Working together, giving their speeches, interacting with the rest of people, posing for the pictures, acting like friends, like family….

Henry must be so proud of them.

.

* * *

**I know it looks like a lot of work-related padding, but believe me, it's necessary. 'The devil is in the detail', they say, don't they? This story explores all the surroundings and relations between the OC and not only H&amp;A and is still being settled. Next chapter we will be moving forward, I think. There's a short paragraph in there that includes a, let's say, suggestive ****scene t****hough for now I'm still keeping this as T rated.**

**If you are having problems to tell one character from the others I remember you that there is a list of characters in chapter 7 that is being updated.**

**I don't own Hey Arnold! I don't own any of the TM mentioned here. They're only here to help the story. I own the plot and the OC. See you soon. Thanks you to Nep2uune, PresleyRox, Acosta Perez Jose Ramiro, CarlinJ83 and Guest for your reviews.**

**W. March 28****th****, 2015.**

**P. April 2****nd**** , 2015.**


	16. Grace

**Rocket to the Moon **

**Chapter Sixteen**

**Grace**

* * *

….

The elevator doors opened at floor twenty six and Grace stepped out. She walked down the hallway check-marking rectangles in her clipboard and observing the place with evaluating eyes. She also took notes. It was imperative to schedule an appointment with the facilities management. Repairs couldn't wait any longer. She continued checking everything out as she went on with her jovial smile and proud gait.

It wasn't easy to be the person in charge of everything. To keep working at its upmost the group of offices settled in two different buildings in town could be the death for most people but for Grace it was a breeze; it was what she lived for. She knew Mueller like the back of her hand; she'd known it since forever, since back on the days when 'headquarters' was a term that came loose to the modest set of offices located at the second floor of a furniture store in Bismarck, North Dakota. She'd arrived long ago, when the company began to take shape. She'd been there when it expanded and diversified. And she'd been there when they moved to NYC. There was nothing she hadn't seen before, Grace thought as she turned around a corner.

"Hello, hello, Gracie!" a young boy came out from nowhere and took her in his arms, making her spin.

"Mark! Careful!" She giggled, her head actually spinning "Kid! Show a little respect for my gray hairs."

"There, there," the boy laughed, holding her secure until she was firm on her feet again.

"You're terrible!" she told the Human Resources young boy patting him in both cheeks.

"And you're so mean. You don't show up to pay a visit anymore!" The boy grumbled with petty complains. Grace laughed "Hey, how about you coming to lunch today, huh?"

"I can't" she pouted "I already made plans with Helga"

"Whew!" Mark's friend, John, who was behind them whistled "I see why you don't come to our spot anymore" he said "You like better your fancy friends!

"Oh, come on!" Grace dismissed him with a wave of her hand.

"Is the boss also coming?"

"No," she informed "Henry has other compromises today."

"Really?" Mark asked, blinking several times his eyes in false surprise.

"Compromises that doesn't include Helga?" John added with mock skepticism. "Thaaaat's weeeiiird! If I were Helga I'd be suspicious."

"Oh, kids, what could you know?" the lady replied with triviality.

"I daresay, he seems pretty possessive about her."

She smiled nonchalantly and turned around. These boys have been in here for what? Two years ? There was no way they knew anything about today. Henry was a discreet mourner.

"You think?" Grace shrugged them off "We can have lunch tomorrow, how about that?" she shifted subjects. "We can have some lasagna…"

"At Pepe's?" Mark asked.

"Where else?" She smirked, mimicking their expressive expressions.

"Sounds like a plan," the skinny stylish boy replied blowing her a kiss.

Grace winked and walked on, taking the stairs to reach next floor. _'You think?_' she snorted, berating herself. She was losing her conclusiveness! But what arguments she had left when Henry himself seemed to get a kick out of wooing the blonde in public? She didn't recognize him anymore! Look what age did to a perfect old-fashioned gentleman! If only Helga could see him! Those good old days were gone…. She sighed deeply.

In other side, Grace continued thinking; this new generation of young men and women was different of every other seen before. Kids from ten years ago still showed respect for adults or their superiors, but these ones from nowadays… '_Holy mackerel!' _her father would say. 'You raised them, now you manage them'. The saying was never more relevant than today.

* * *

. . .

"And then he said he never made a promise…" a girl said and then she started to cry. "Can you believe it?!" she added between sobs.

"What an idiot!" Her friend cursed under her breath.

Grace stepped into the storage / copy room and the two girls stirred uncomfortably. '_Here we go again'_ she thought as she smiled with sympathy to the one whose face was wet. She walked to the bottom of the place and checked for mold stains in the walls and the state of the electrical outlets. She moved boxes and stuff around. After writing down her findings she turned to face the girls.

The friend looked at her emboldened, as if ready to defend her friend not matter what, for not being at their workplace. Grace rolled her eyes inwardly. Sometimes girls seemed to forget she was one of them. Girls stick together, she believed it. She was aware the weeping girl had been seeing a guy from Finances; a married guy. The girl hid her face from her as she dealt with the copy machine.

"What is it? He didn't call?" she asked, sympathetic.

"Is not that!" the girl whined.

"So?" she insisted. The girl wiped her tears from her eyes as Grace waited.

"He broke up with her; just told her it was over and walked away." Her friend butted in.

"I see…" All through her four decades of experience - how many times she'd seen this very scene repeating itself? Grace wondered. Waiting for the girl to stop weeping, she exhaled.

"Is that it?" she asked. The girl nodded as new fresh tears fell from her eyes "Are you feeling alright? Wanna go home for the rest of the day or something?" She waited patiently until she finally put herself together and shook her head quietly. "You sure?"

"Yes," she finally let out a mumble "I'll be fine."

"Alright honey, if you're so sure…" she breathed deeply. "Then go to the bathroom and put yourself together. Don't show the bastard you're hurt; don't risk him trying to get you back…-" The old lady opened big her eyes seeing the hopeful expression in the girl's face.

"You think he might…"

"Of course he might and he'll do, but you're not gonna fall again, you listen?" she put an arm over the girl's shoulders "Look, I know it seems hard, but this is the best of the outcomes. You might not understand now but some day you will. You're so young and pretty. Don't waste away your life waiting for something that is never going to happen. The Mikes Davis of this world never leave their wives…"

"He's not Mike Davis…" both girls whined. Grace exhaled.

"Mike Davis, Chris Thompson, _Enrique Molinar_… I can fill a book with their names but that doesn't change a thing. Married men never leave their wives. That's something that life taught me and something that you must learn…"

"But he's different…" the girl started.

"Is he?" she asked "Then why he hadn't left her already. Why it's you who are left here crying her eyes out and not him or his wife?" the old woman spoke kinda roughly, but then softened a bit. It was something that came with aging; patience wore thin.

She left the girls by themselves saying she'd talk to their boss. Sometimes she surprised herself. Why she was being so sympathetic? Was it perhaps…

Perhaps because she still remembered how it felt to be young and a dreamer?

* * *

. . .

Exhaling and somewhat gloomy after a quick trip to the past she pushed open the door in 29th floor. With firm steps she walked down the aisles armed only with watchful eyes, a red ink pen and her reliable clipboard. Her lips pouted seeing the blond boy at the end of the hallway with tons and tons of paperwork covering his desk. She shook her head and looked around. Office spaces; 29th floor was lacking office spaces. They might as well interchange Operations and Legal Departments but that would mean a major distress. Maybe she needed to take another look to that storage room again. Or maybe send some people to the building located in 106th St and Madison?

She turned on her heels and instantly felt herself crashing against someone who walked close behind her.

"Ouch!" a girl moaned.

"Sorry," she apologized. A younger woman was in front of her, struggling to keep a grip of her papers. "Are you alright?" Grace asked; the girl nodded.

"I shouldn't be walking so close. I am sorry," a kind smile appeared on her freckled face.

"Don't be. It was my fault…" and with a forced smile she hurried away.

Once reaching her destination Grace entered the room and closed the door. Damn! She couldn't help it but she almost hated the girl with the freckles. And the poor creature was absolutely guiltless; she was even friendly! It was not her fault that she looked a lot like her; like a young Darleen. She had the same blonde, stringy hair; those pale blue eyes and her complexion…. Okay, she could admit that this girl wasn't the disgusting gum-chewer that Darleen was, nor did she have that trashy look, but still…

Seriously! She shouldn't be thinking shit about Dick's mother, Grace berated herself. She might have been vulgar, ill-cultured and whatever but she was the one who kept him afloat when he was a kid. She turned out to be a good mother after all.

Good old days, Grace sighed again. Or were they plain bad ugly old days? She remembered the flashy blonde girl swaying her hips as she walked down the aisles of the old furniture store. She and the rest of the secretaries despised the insolent little vixen from the sales floor. Old Mr. Mueller used to laugh at their expense. "Why you girls are so mean?" his question was followed by a snicker "Let the poor girl brighten this old man's days."

But little Miss Darleen from sales floor didn't go up to the offices to exhibit her bum before old Franz Mueller, oh-no! The target of her entire show was not other than Robert Pataki, the young, industrious and diligent storekeeper. And yet, to her disgrace, Bob Pataki ignored blatantly the sassy girl's act. He was always busy, with his full attention dedicated to his work, - and his eyes preoccupied in a higher place.

So, long story short, it was another Mueller who ended enjoying the charms of the blonde girl and it wasn't Franz, but Fredrick - Henry young brother and the black sheep of the family-. Grace breathed deeply again as she ended taking notes and gauging the room. Poor Darleen, she never imagined Fredrick's devotion ended when the sun rose. There was when the nightmare started.

* * *

. . .

30th floor.

The advantage of 30th floor was that it was always in the best conditions. At the moment a flaw was detected it was fixed right away. She would never postpone a repair in here. She approached the central area as she checked over the ceiling and walls. She greeted the secretaries and asked the usual questions as she walked to the coffee room to get some water. When none of the secretaries replied to her question she grumbled inwardly. Sometimes these girls loved her and were her best friends, and sometimes they didn't. She asked herself if she had done something 'offensive' to them lately; something that acted in detriment of their 'comfort', since this group of girls used to think they deserved a special treatment.

Acting as if nothing, as if she didn't perceive their blatant discourtesy, she mumbled something about the weather and headed for Henry's door.

"Mr. Mueller is in a meeting," the affected voice of his secretary's stopped her.

"Oh," Grace made a halt and turned around. "With whom?"

"Well," the secretary continued in her obnoxious style "It's not actually your business but an entire hour was booked to Mr. Wilson."

"I see," Grace nodded. So Jerry, huh? Then it wasn't properly a meeting, but a chat with a friend.

Jerry Wilson was Henry's best friend and partner. They've met in college and he was the first person to invest his money in Mueller. Jerry brought Glen Brennan and his old money along. Besides partners the three of them had been directives for decades until they retired after the reengineering five years ago. Glen had always been a pain in Henry's ass; always questioning his methods and command; always predicting his failure and the consequent bankruptcy of the entire enterprise. Fortunately his worst fears and projections were never real. Jerry, on the contrary, was always by Henry's side, having his back, supporting every one of his decisions. Grace could almost see them through the door, talking about the same old issues, and acting the same only old, grey and wrinkled:

.

* * *

. . .

"_You can say what you want, but I'm sure that asshole is trying something. I don't like the way he is always whispering to Dick's ears…"_

And Henry would dismiss him:

"My friend! You're paranoid." he'd smile with indulgence "What could he do? Tell him that I keep taking bad decisions?" he'd chuckle "I don't take the decisions anymore"

"My point exactly!" Jerry would open his eyes in a warning fashion. "I didn't mean he talks against you, but against Helga!"

"Glen trained Helga, for Pete's sake!" Henry would laugh openly. Jerry would shake his head.

"Sometimes I wonder what will be of this company when we're not around…" Jerry would grumble.

Henry would throw him some papers as he'd lean back in his chair.

"Just keep looking at those numbers my friend! I tell you, these kids are putting the rest of us to shame!"

* * *

. . .

Grace blinked and turned back to the secretary; a smirk on her face. The bitch! Then pointed to another door.

"What about Dick?"

"Oh…" Dick's secretary interjected; Grace laughed at her zealous expression "Dick is having an interview. A girl from The Wall Street Journal wants to know the secrets of one of the top ten COOs of the year."

"Really?" Grace smiled warmly. The girl nodded as if the merit were entirely hers. "Of course she does! Our Dick is something else!" she exclaimed proudly "Although… I wonder how she's putting up with him. God knows our kid is not easy…"

* * *

. . .

"Right," a red haired girl wrote something down in her little book and took air deeply before raising her sight "Do you aspire to, for instance, be the CEO of Mueller Enterprises at some point in the future?" she asked, struggling to ignore the monotonous drumming of his fingers on the desk and going on with her questionnaire without a pause "Do you plan to keep developing and / or improving the processes of manufacturing? How much affects or benefits to your performance the interaction between you and the head of Finances - Ms. Pataki? Do you…"

By the scornful smile that appeared on his face it was easy to say that the man in front of her had stopped paying attention to her litany of questions, even when politely he let her continue. The girl exhaled. She had never been more embarrassed in her entire life. She wasn't getting any real answer from him, only the minutely examination of her questions and serious doubts about her professionalism. She was a nervous wreck and all because of that intense scrutiny. Damn it! What kind of freak he was anyway?!

"Is it assumed… that I should remember all that questioning?" he smirked.

She shook her head and smiled bashfully "Of course not…"

"Do you expect a single answer? … I mean, can I speak extensively about my work or are you eager to leave?"

"Mr. Mueller…" she faltered, her face beet red.

"Dick," he corrected. There was a strange resonance in his voice that made her heart jump from her chest and constrain her throat. A whine escaped her lips. She tittered; her face flushed. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"Mr. Mueller…" she started with a squeak. His smile grew. Fuck!

"Alright," he chuckled "Take your time. I…" he shrugged and shook his head, still amused "I'll answer your questions, the ones that I remember, that's it," he made a pause, leaning back in his swivel chair "But first I have a question on my own…. Has anyone amongst your previous interviewees ever told you that he always wants to stay always the same…" he shrugged again "that his dream is being a COO forever?" now he directed her a friendly look "You're having only COOs, right?"

She gave a shy nod. He looked at her and then went on actually answering some of her questions; the ones that she'd made at the beginning; the smart ones. She bit the inside of her mouth as she took inferred notes. She was taping the interview. Dick Mueller had a sharp mind, she could tell. He answered generalities but not specifics; not a single secret left his lips. By his speech she inferred his mental processes were schematic, linear.

She also realized he was giving her the opportunity to regain control, to put herself together. She felt her cheeks flushing again and felt ashamed. She wasn't naïve. She'd interviewed hundreds of people before. She was smart, sophisticated. She couldn't believe she was acting like an hormone fueled teenager for Pete's sake. It was like the rehash of a bad movie; the cliché scene when the girl mumbled against the lips of the alleged hero: 'Take me now'…

* * *

. . .

Grace was brought back from her reverie when heard a door being opened and she could see Leo leaving Helga's office. He closed the door behind him and after smiling to the secretaries he came right to meet her.

"Gracie…"

She greeted him and they walked side by side to the staircase. It was nice to see a friendly face for a change. Grace knew her presence was appreciated by most of the personnel in hte office but there were always someone around full of something that only could be called envy. She knew it by the ill-concealed annoyance in the girls' faces. Alright, probably one of these bitches would be occupying her place some day in the future but for now she was the queen bee and they have to suck it.

"Well, that was nice," she mumbled to herself as Leo disappeared behind the staircase though not before kissing her cheek. Grace walked back to the sulking secretaries and before offending someone else with her assumptions she turned to Helga's assistant.

"Helga is…?" but stopped when the girl stood up from her chair holding tightly her agenda against her chest.

"She is taking a call. From Tegucigalpa…" the girl moved her head up and down, marking her efficiency. "It'd been waiting for a while."

"Perfect!" Grace gave up. Exhaling with exasperation she walked to the elegant waiting room and took a seat. Ignoring their scandalized expressions she checked her clipboard. She raised her sight every now and then. To Henry's door. Wondering how he'd spend the night of the thirteenth anniversary of his son's death. Pondering once again how deep it had affected him; if it was real that all his suffering had been left behind. Then she realized that Jerry's current presence was precisely because of that. She sighed.

She also threw glances to Helga's door. Grace fixed her green sight on the rectangular piece of metal that held her name. She really liked the girl. She had become an important part of the enterprise in a relative short term considering she was a stranger. And she had been accepted into the family circle even faster. Despite what it might look she was real and genuine. She was loyal; an invaluable help to late Mrs. Mueller and to Henry himself.

And still, sometimes Grace didn't know what to think about her. Regarding some aspects of her life she was really secretive. You never really knew what was going on in that little blonde head of hers. She was a good girl, yet sometimes as crazy as a loon…

.

* * *

. . .

Her breath hitched. She pushed hard. She had him right where she wanted. It was the reason why she was here after all; in his house, in his bed. She pushed again and he moaned, and the low, deep grumble thrilled her; made her tremble to the core. Despite its weirdness, having him inside her felt so right that sometimes she feared this was her reason for living; the one and only. She shunned every thought and thrust harder. He gripped her hips and hit on his own, mercilessly. She groaned. Softness didn't fit them. Theirs was rough contact… friction… hunger… lust. She squeezed. Him against the junction of her legs. She was burning…

**_Knock knock knock_**

Grace blinked at the sudden sight of Arnold knocking on Helga's door. She arched a brow turning to the secretary who had the decency to show an apologetic look. A thud followed by a grumble came our from the office. Grace stood. Arnold pushed open the door and disappeared inside.

_"Geez! Do you want to give me a heart attack or what?"_ Helga grumble was heard, the last part was muffled by the closing door.

The stunned secretary turned to Grace, who raised her brow. _'Since when Arnold knocks on her door without addressing to you in first place'_ she was about to ask her when another door was opened.

Grace turned back to see Dick holding open his door to a red-haired girl. They stepped into the hall and after a quick interchange they shook hands. Grace was getting close feeling invited by Dick's nod.

"Oh, I almost forgot," the girl spoke again just before turning around "Do you think I could talk to Miss Pataki now?"

The cordial expression disappeared from the masculine face. Grace wriggled her brows at him, taking advantage of the fact that the girl had eyes only for him.

"Why don't we ask her secretary?" Dick pointed towards Kitty the efficient, who stood again shaking her head and started a lecture about appointments and whatnot.

_"Why she has to bring Helga up when everything was going on so fiiiiiiinnnee?"_ Grace mumbled under her breathe, mockingly. Dick snorted.

"Tell me about it!" he replied. He asked what was she doing over there and she replied she was waiting for Henry. Then they waited until the reporter scheduled an appointment with Helga to the end of next week, then she came to say goodbye again, red-faced, and walked to the elevator. The sixty –some years old woman turned to her companion.

"Don't think I didn't realize you were flirting shamelessly!" she slapped his arm playfully.

"Who? Me?" he opened his eyes pretending offense.

"Yes, you! You totally did!" she exclaimed. "Playing the game of cat and mouse! Gee, you're so mean! " she shoved him again. He shook his head dismissively but Grace saw the awkward smile that showed he knew she'd caught him red-handed. He shrugged then and got close, taking softly her hand and bringing it up to his lips.

"Don't be jealous," he mumbled seductively against her skin "You know I always come back to you."

Grace giggled as she let herself be led to his office. It was pure bluster but she enjoyed it nonetheless. The girls must be seething. And the man whose arm rested on her shoulders smelled deliciously. She suspired. If only she were thirty years younger.

. . .

* * *

**Well, end of the first part of this chapter. Second part is told by Arnold, and is already written but is having a major improvement. Still, I hope it to be posted in a few days. Thank you for reading, reviewing, favoring or just for being here. Special thanks to Nep2uune, CarlinJ86, Guest, José Ramiro and PresleyRox.**

**Disclaimer; I don't own Hey Arnold!**

**See you soon!**

**May 1st, 2015.**


	17. Greg

**Rocket to the Moon**

**Chapter Seventeen**

**Greg **

**. . .**

* * *

Sorry it took so long. First part was written almost a month ago. Last part just the day before yesterday. It was written in a hurry. I hope haven't forgetten anything important. Let's go recalling where were we.

* * *

. . .

**_Knock knock knock_**

Grace blinked at the sudden sight of Arnold knocking on Helga's door. She arched a brow turning to the secretary who had the decency to show an apologetic look. A thud was heard followed by a grumble. Grace stood. Arnold pushed open the door and disappeared inside.

_"Geez! Do you want to give me a heart attack or what?"_ It was heard, the last part was muffled by the closing door.

The stunned secretary turned to Grace, who raised her brow. _'Since when Arnold knocks on her door without addressing to you in first place'_ she was about to ask her when another door was opened.

Grace turned back to see Dick holding open his door to a red-haired girl. They stepped into the hall and after a quick interchange they shook hands. Grace was getting close feeling invited by Dick's nod.

"Oh, I almost forgot," the girl spoke again just before turning around "Do you think I could talk to Miss Pataki now?"

The cordial expression disappeared from the masculine face. Grace wriggled her brows at him, taking advantage of the fact that the girl had eyes only for him.

"Why don't we ask her secretary?" Dick pointed towards Kitty the efficient, who stood again shaking her head and starting a lecture about appointments and whatnot.

_"Why she has to bring Helga up when everything was going on so fiiiiiiinnnee?"_ Grace mumbled under her breathe, mockingly. Dick snorted.

"Tell me about it!" he replied. He asked what she was doing over there and she replied she waited for Henry. Then they waited until the reporter scheduled an appointment to the end of next week, then came to say goodbye again, red-faced, and walked to the elevator. The sixty –some years old woman turned to her companion.

"Don't think I didn't realize you were flirting shamelessly!" she slapped his arm playfully.

"Who? Me?" he opened his eyes pretending offense.

"Yes, you! You totally did!" she exclaimed. "Playing that game of cat and mouse! Gee, you're so mean! " she shoved him again. He shook his head dismissively but Grace saw the awkward smile that showed he knew she'd caught him red-handed. He shrugged then and got close, taking her hand and bringing it up to his lips.

"Don't be jealous," he mumbled seductively against her skin "You know I always come back to you."

Grace giggled as she let herself be led to his office. It was pure bluster but she enjoyed it nonetheless. The girls must be seething. And the man whose arm rested on her shoulders smelled deliciously. She suspired. If only she were thirty years younger.

. . .

* * *

. . .

Startled, he pushed the door open to hear Helga's cursing. She was leaning down to pull at her chair. Her hair was a mess. Arnold hurried to her side as she tugged at her clothes and combed her blond tresses with her fingers.

"What happened?" he asked, helping her to put the chair straight.

"What do you think it happened?!" she countered; pointing to the chair "This shit fell over!"

"The chair?!" the blond boy asked with surprise. It was a heavy swivel chair… with a five star base "How?"

"How?!" that seemed to make it. She snapped. "How could I know?!"She almost yelled "What do I look like Arnold? A chair engineer?"

Arnold crouched to take a look to the thing but she took him from the back of his shirt and pointed to the other chair.

"Go take your seat!" she grumbled, shoving him hard. Arnold stumbled. "What are you doing here anyway?" As he rounded the table a strange feeling showered over him… _Relieve? Joy?!_ Arnold frowned. _Just by seeing her acting like her old self?! God, I am weird!_ He hid a chuckle. Why she was being so touchy anyway? He looked up. The frown made him travel all the way back to the old playground; to see the bully in pink. It was funny. He kind of missed her.

"What were you doing?" he couldn't help but giggle "Man, it's a swivel chair!"

Helga grumbled as fell heavily into her seat.

"Thinking," she snorted "Duh!"

"Thinking?"

"I think, Football Head, think. That's how I work. And when I think - or work- I lean back in the chair, see?" she actually did it "Maybe I pushed too hard, I don't know, maybe there's a bump in the carpet…" she leaned to look at the floor.

Arnold watched her as she looked for a probably imaginary bump in the carpet. Her cheeks were flushing pink. What was she doing before he knocked the door, he wondered again, and then frowned. Seeing her like that he couldn't help but imagine having her all sweaty and flushed in his arms. With her soft hair all over her face like it did a minute ago. Alright… he had to admit it. This was weird to a completely new level.

"Anyway," she started again looking up to see him. Her eyes looked different, bluer. Arnold took an intake, holding her gaze and leaning comfortably in his chair. "What do you want?" she asked.

"Geez!" he chuckled "Why are you being so rude?"

"I have some work to do Football Head. Tons of work actually," she started to rummage through the papers on her desk "and you're here making me lose my precious time." She pouted "What is so important that you couldn't tell me by phone?"

"Sorry," he felt guilty all of a sudden but the guiltiness lasted only a few seconds. Helga was an expert at mortifying people. But then, eyeing her he realized she looked actually mortified. "Are you alright?"

"Hell, yeah!" she chirped with impatience "For God's sake, are you going to tell me what the fuck you want or not?"

He nodded.

"I just wanted to tell you that I'm coming..." in sight of her confusion he added for good measure "to yours and Rhonda party."

"Oh, that" she finally nodded "Alright," then she leaned back in her chair and looked at him with a half-smile "Seems that that pretty girl of yours took her time to grant her permission, huh?" she cocked her head.

"I don't need her permission!" Arnold scoffed. She chuckled.

"What she's afraid of?" Helga ignored him and went on, scratching absentmindedly her collarbone, pulling aside her pink blouse and exposing the skin of her shoulder. "We trying to steal her football headed boyfriend?" More and more skin with every second...

"Gah!"

_Keep doing that and you may get it,_ he thought, leaving his seat as a way to stop gawking at her. _Dream, Football Head, dream_… he shook his head. His inner Helga had a thing for mocking him. _At least she feels comfortable enough in my presence to scratch her shoulder._

As he walked to the door he turned his head to look at her. She was turning on her swivel chair following his path, leaning back. It was true, she pushed back too hard. Maybe he understood now why she fell over in the first place.

"You leaving?" she raised her brows.

"You say you're busy" he shrugged his shoulders "Do I need to bring something? To the party?"

"Mmmm" Helga hummed, looking suddenly lethargic "Your drinks?"

"Alright," he nodded "What about yours?"

"Rhon-Rhon uses to take charge of the drinks…. Food's on me."

"What are we having?"

"Sushi… Chinese…"

"Not Indian, right?" he opened his eyes showing worry.

She smirked "Not Indian, I swear," she raised her palm.

"Alright… I'm looking forward to next Friday" he spoke again once reaching the door.

"Yay!" Helga raised both thumbs but she was already looking for something on her desk. Arnold closed the door. He started to think about the kind of job Helga actually realized. She was right. Her work has a lot to do with thinking. His, in other hand, was something like that, but most of his job was to put in paper his…

"Who do you think you are going straight to Helga's door like that?!"

Arnold blinked. Kitty, Helga's secretary was standing right in front of him; arms crossed over her chest and an angry look in her eyes. He frowned. The woman used to be nicer.

"She… she texted me. Asked me to come over."

"Oh, really?! Just like that?! She asked and you came?"

Kitty wanted to pick a fight, which was a novelty to him. He didn't know how to react to her belligerence. "Mmmm, _yes?_"

"_Arnold!_" both Arnold and Kitty raised their sights to see a harassed-looking Deb walking to her office with both hands occupied with a briefcase each. "Come over here!"

Arnold forgot about Kitty and hurried to Deb side without hesitation. He helped her with her laptop case and followed to her office. A couple of minutes later he left the room after being entrusted with a bunch of extra work and the impression of having being charged with a sullenness that didn't belong to him. Grumbling, he reached his desk to left the papers but then walked right to Greg's private room.

. . .

* * *

. . .

"Have a minute?" he asked from the door. Greg raised his sight and nodded.

"What's up?" his friend asked. Arnold took the seat in front of him and exhaled. He didn't know how to start. Didn't want to be nosy but he didn't actually know much about the boss of them both, about her demons. The girl had been acting different lately and it worried him. Old habits die hard, after all. Greg listened to him without interruptions, but without raising his sight from his work, truth be told.

"Well, Arnold," Greg finally left his chair and walked to the bookshelf that was located at the corner of his office. "I don't know if I am the best person to tell you something but I guess someone has to," he paused "-and since you're becoming someone, let's say, close…" he paused again and looked at him in the eye. "But this is only for your ears, right?"

"Of course," he nodded "What is it?"

"Today is… I don't know if you'd already heard something about this day but…." He paused again and walked to his window to look outside for a while "I think I need to go back… to bring some background." After a short pause he started again "Here at Mueller we have a very close group of people, I guess you already saw it. I mean, people above." He pointed to the ceiling "Henry is the owner; Dick's the nephew, Helga's the daughter…"

"Helga's not family." Arnold interrupted.

"For practical purposes, she 'kind of' is. Well, -" Greg's quotation marks in the air called Arnold's attention but he let go "Deb is something of the like. She's…" he pouted "to Henry' eyes, she's the girl who was destined to marry Roger."

"What?" the affirmation called _all_ of Arnold's attention "Were they together?"

"No. In fact they were never a couple. Deb was this girl, you know, who grown up by Roger's side; who was always in love with him. The gardener's daughter. His sidekick, his playground buddy. Roger was always dense, oblivious… he never realized. Or maybe he realized but who knows? Maybe he also liked her but didn't know what to do…" Greg shrugged his shoulders showing the meaninglessness of the any possibility.

"That's so…"

"Cliché?"

"I was going to say 'sad' but yeah,"

"Well, it was sad." The story made Arnold recall another one, in fact; a very similar one, a lot closer to home. "I guess death always is." Well, excluding that.

"He never paid her any attention, then? Never reciprocated her feelings?"

"Well, she was always his best friend. I remember he relied on her a lot. They called each other all the time, but other than that..."

Arnold nodded.

"Today is his birthday, I guess" he interjected. Greg shook his head.

"The anniversary of his death." he corrected.

"How long it's been?"

"Thirteen years."

"He worked in here?"

Greg snorted.

"I could say yes, but actually he didn't. Roger was a rebel. He used to come for a while and then fought with his father and left, disappearing for long periods. This happened several times until it became boring. Henry wasn't the best father back then; he was very strict, controlling. His early death destroyed him… Mrs. Mueller, Deb…. It's really a sad story."

"How old was he?"

Greg shrugged "About my age…. Should be forty by now."

"How it happened?"

"A plane crash in Australia." Greg said without emotion "It was a hard time for everybody. He was so young. Life is unfair."

Arnold leaned back and took a deep intake. He could only imagine the extent of such unfortunate event. The way it affected everybody.

"What about Dick? It was hard for him too?"

"Dick wasn't around back then." Greg continued "He's younger. Must have been in college or so. They weren't close, the Muellers. I think they never actually talked to each other out of familiar gatherings if so."

Greg went on. It seemed that once starting it was easier to go on unraveling the secrets and mysteries of the family. After the ill-fated event Deb got closer to the grieving parents, but eventually she struggled to get over it and went out to find her significant other. Outwardly at least. Less than two years later she had married and divorced Brad Tilly.

It was about then that Dick arrived to the circle. His uncle and aunt showered him with love, gifts, attentions, and - of course -responsibilities, but Dick fought against being regarded as Roger replacement. All the excessive attention from the family, all that pressure, he didn't know how to take it; it wasn't easy for him; he wasn't ready. So he merely humored them with being present and staying at the enterprise to work along them, but it was all he was willing to do.

Working along was something he did, and did well. Of course from the beginning everybody knew Dick wasn't just another employee. His was an intensive training to eventually become the head of Mueller Enterprises after his uncle's term, which, by the way, had been always marked by his and Glen Brennan's power struggles. Amongst other things, to Henry Dick meant continuity; the perpetuation of his legacy.

But this idea prevailed until the arriving of Helga.

Henry had to his favor that neither Glen nor Jerry, the principal investors, had an heir on their own. Jerry had two daughters who didn't care about business. They had married to European guys and lived abroad. The same happened to Glen. But his single daughter main interest was jet set, social life and receiving on time form the company a check with her revenues.

When Helga Pataki arrived no one imagined she'd become a menace to the plan. She'd wormed steadily her way into the family circle and became someone with power in a relative short period of time. She was willing to receive all the love and attention that Dick despised. She was craving it. The Muellers fell flat for her charms and sweetness. Everybody pegged her for a gold-digger but time had proved that she was authentic.

"You know?" Arnold finally spoke again "When we were kids Helga was never the sweetest thing around."

"Figures," Greg snorted "Well, I'll never daresay she actually is." he leaned back in his chair "Of course I don't mean she's a bad person. Quite the opposite. I think she's in fact one of the bigger assets of this company."

When Arnold inquired about Greg's opinion regarding the succession, a topic of conversation that still could be heard in the hallways, his boss only shrugged his shoulders.

"I know anything about it and it's none of my business." He stated "Regardless…"

Regardless, Greg thought Dick was an excellent operative but his understanding of the big panorama was far from being the best. Helga was really good at that, but her experience in Operations was null. He guessed it was complicated. They both made a great team together, but everyone by themselves…

"I guess I'm just happy that is not me the one who is eventually gonna take the big decision."

Arnold couldn't agree any more. He decided to change the subject.

"You mentioned something about Helga being like a daughter to Henry. That means you don't share the opinion that they're a couple?"

Greg took an intake.

"Look, I know what it looks like, but I'm almost sure they aren't."

"Why are you so sure?"

"Because I've known them for years. I understand that future is something that worries Henry. I mean, his legacy, all that he's constructed for years, for his family, for himself, for his name. That's important. And of course people in the position of Henry want to have an heir. He had it once, but he's doesn't exist anymore. Beyond all the pain for his lost lies his pain because Roger isn't here now. There's not heir anymore. Then Dick comes into the picture. But Dick is not exactly what a father would like; he's cold, hardhearted…. Helga fits the mold more properly but..."

"But Helga is not family."

"Yeah." Greg took air "I know Henry loves her dearly. Helga loves him too." He paused "Helga, you know, precisely Helga…" he laughed softly "It's like an irony of fate. And yet…"

"And yet…?"

"Well, I must confess that … I have some theories of my own.

"Really? Theories as?"

"It's kinda complicated." He exhaled long "For example, everybody thinks Henry is wooing Helga so she could –eventually- give him a new heir, but I think different."

"What do you think?"

"I think Henry pretends he's wooing Helga to give Dick a warning."

"A warning?" Arnold blinked. "If Henry have an heir on his own then Dick can say goodbye to the inheritance?"

"Well... basically. But it also can work as a…" Greg made a halt and leaned back in his chair, taking a lungful. "Nah, it's too far fetching."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing. I guess what you said is more likely." he exhaled "I don't know why we are talking about this. Is not as if it's something they pay us for doing, anyway"

"So you think it has everything to do with that? Dick settling down? Getting a wife and a heir of his own"

"Kinda..." Greg shrugged "Or compromising with the family and stop hanging around."

"Hanging around?" Arnold was lost again.

"Hanging around… rubbing elbows with the other side of the table?" probably Arnold's face showed his confusion because he went on "You know, flirting with Glen and his war struggles."

"I think you lost me."

"Let's say that if Dick takes Glen's side then they both could match Henry's power. They together can put Henry in an awkward situation."

"And?"

"Having Helga by his side should make Dick realize any effort would be pointless."

"Because Helga made him strong?"

"Well, there's also Jerry. But Helga helps a lot. As I said before, Helga is an important asset of the company." He said with deep conviction.

"You think Helga's aware of this all?"

"Come on!" Greg chortled "She's not full of hope, seated at a bay window, waiting for her prince charming - that's for sure!"

Arnold nodded. Greg has a point, he thought.

"So everything has to do with power?"

"Of course everything has to do with power... and politics." Greg laughed, somewhat coldly. "Money rules the world."

"You're cold" Arnold stated, seeing his grin. He got up.

"I'm a lawyer. I'm just practical."

. . .

* * *

. . .

"You're not wearing that, are you?"

"What?" Arnold turned around to see his image on the mirror, his attention fixed on the white shirt "Why not? It's a nice shirt."

"You're going to downtown; to a goddamn penthouse in Park Avenue!" Claire walked to the closet and started rummaging around. A second later she put out a dark green shirt that he didn't even remember he possessed. She dusted it off and smelled it although the shirt was clean. "This one and your black slacks should do it."

"Isn't it too formal?"

"A get together with your 'fancy' girl friends?" she quoted. He had used the term before. "Do I need to say more?"

"Well," Arnold started. The thing was that he didn't intend to compete. His aim was having a nice evening reconnecting with an old friend, with two old friends actually. One of them he hadn't seen in a while; the other one wasn't anything else but a coworker to whom he only knew a few personal things. Other than the meeting at Luna Nueva, there had not been time to actually reconnect. They talked about work, business ideologies, and new friends, but nothing personal. "they both know I'm not that… affluent…"

"It's not about being loaded. It's a about having style." Claire cut him off. "Remember Helga at the park the other day? She didn't lose the flair for a second, not even when she's walking an ugly dog…. And you say the other one…"

"Rhonda…"

"Rhonda…right," Claire continued as she placed his black pants on the bed "is a fashionista who happens to work at Vogue?!" she raised her brows "Believe me, you're not overdressed"

"Alright," Arnold nodded deciding on giving her the benefit of the doubt. Besides, it was a nice outfit, now that he had time to think twice. He took off his white shirt and jeans and started to put on the new clothes all under the Claire's critical look.

"What?" he spat. He didn't like the way she was looking at him.

"Are you gaining weight?"

"Why?" he turned down to see his abdomen "Am I fat?"

"Not fat… but you look… different." Claire pouted. "I mean, look at your arms…"

"I know" Arnold grumbled. Maybe he was overworking at the gym. He wasn't that tall and muscles may be too much for him, too noticeable. Maybe he should ask the trainer again.

"But you know? In fact you don't look half bad. It's just…"she hesitated.

"Different?" he asked, making a gesture.

He turned to the mirror to see his image as he buttoned his pants and zipped them up. He looked nice, sober, and the extra muscles in his arms were actually flattering. Claire threw him his brand new belt.

"Your shoes are polished, right?"

"Yeah," he frowned and turned to see her through the mirror. "Why are you being so… understanding?"

Claire snorted.

"Arnold," she started "You got a friend who lives at a penthouse in Park Avenue. She invited you to a party. Only you, her and her BFF." She almost rolled her eyes "We're in the same boat. What else do you want me doing? Ironing your socks? I'll do it for sure."

"No! For god's sake!" he scoffed, giving a step back.

"I'm sure you'd do the same for me!" she retorted.

"Well, when you put it that way." He shrugged. He definitively would do that. They were a team, after all, partners. Although to say the truth he didn't know how he'd feel if she'd ask him for advice to get all primped up before meeting a guy who lived in the nicest part of the town. Even when he wasn't the jealous type... Better not thinking about it.

Arnold took an extra glance to the mirror and liking what he saw he took his jacket and wallet and left the bedroom.

"So I look good?" he asked her when they reached the kitchen. She nodded.

"Good-looking," she bit her lip "kinda stocky..."

"Stocky?" his face fell "You mean fat?" he walked back to the room and reached the mirror.

"No, no fat… but not not-fat either." Claire came behind him, a small smile on her face.

"You said stocky!" he pointed out.

"Stocky means strong… solid-built…" she grinned

"But no fat?"

"No, you're not fat. You're handsome," she blew him a kiss "just the way I like."

He saw his image once more time before exiting the room.

"But no fat, right?"

Claire grinned "Are you taking the car?" she asked from behind him.

"No… Helga said the host uses to do the… driving back" Claire mumbled something to herself. He ignored her and took his keys "Well, I think I'm leaving"

"Alright" she came up to peck his lips "You're gonna tell me all the gossip when you're back, huh?"

Arnold smiled nervously and let out a hesitant "I guess," when the doorbell rang. Claire slapped his ass and giggled as she went to check the door. He hurried back to the bedroom to see if he didn't forget anything. A last look to the mirror didn't hurt anyone, right? No fat, alright. He left the room realizing he was getting nervous.

Brenda walked in front of him in her way to the kitchen carrying two heavy-looking plastic bags.

"What is it?" he asked

"Claire didn't tell you?" she replied "We're having our own party"

Brenda wriggled her brows as she took bottles and other stuff out of the bags.

"What? Did you think you're the only one who was having a party?" Claire added.

"Is someone else coming?" he asked with caution.

"Gossip… when you return…" Brenda grinned.

"Nah!" Claire dismissed him with a wave of her hand "It's only the two of us. What could be more fun?" she asked from the doorway. She was keeping the door open for him. Arnold took her hand as he reached her.

"You two aren't inviting guys to come over while I'm absent, are you?"

Claire looked at him innocently and then rolled her eyes.

"Look who's talking!" she giggled "Arnold Shortman, you are the one who's having two dolls to yourself tonight!"

And with that she pushed him out and closed the door.

Arnold gripped the iron rail. He felt tempted to push the door open and make clear that what she implied wasn't the case, not at all, but then remembered she already knew it.

And he also knew she wasn't going to bring someone else to their home. It was just she and Brenda. They both alone could have the best of the times together. He walked down the steps and up the street. There was a liquor store just around the corner. He bought two six-packs and a bottle of tequila. Then he had problems handling the change. Two coins went rolling across the tiled floor and the notes didn't want to get into his wallet. He chuckled to himself. Why he was so nervous? His hands were sweating for God's sake!

He breathed deeply a couple of times enjoying the freshness of the air that touched his face as he walked due south. Why he was getting so nervous, he wondered again. Was it from meeting Rhonda after so many years without seen her? He didn't think so. It was as if he had been told he was going to meet Lila, Nadine, Ruth or any or the girls from grade school. It'd be nice, but that was it.

Was it from seeing Helga? In a private environment? At her own home? In a place where nothing and no one work –related should be discussed, only private, personal things. He remembered then how Rhonda used to be the gossip queen and a chill ran down his back. He must be ready to disclose some personal stuff if he expected to learn something new from them. He should be prepared.

But in other hand, what he really expected was… he paused. It probably was to see her, to observe her. To know if she also felt he way he did. If she was also attracted to him, if she felt nervous in his presence. In the privacy of her place, even if Rhonda was present, it'd be easier to find out a hint, clue of what her feelings towards him were. He wanted to bond, to connect. It was about time to leave out doubts.

_For what?_ his mind asked.

A horn was heard followed by a screech of tires. A taxi had stopped at the corner and he ran to catch it before someone else beat him.

.

* * *

**I don't own Hey Arnold! Craig Bartlett and Viacom does, so far I know. Why paramount doesn't do The Jungle Movie already?!**

**I don't own any TM mentioned here.**

**I apologize again for the long waiting. I'll do my best to update in two weeks. Rhonda will appear in next chapter.  
**

**Thank you all for reading and special thanks to CarlinJ86, Jose Ramiro, Nep2uune, Presley Rox and a guest. I love to receive your commentaries.  
**

**See you soon.**

**May 23rd, 2015**


	18. Cigarette Smoking Man

**Rocket to the Moon**

**Chapter Eighteen**

**Cigarette Smoking Man**

* * *

. . .

It'd been a few minutes that he'd reached the front door of the building and he already knew something was wrong. There was not intercom. He knocked the door several times but there was no answer. He was starting to wonder if he should call Helga when a couple got out saying something about the doorman looking indisposed. They let him in. The couple was ravishing, dressed to the opera or something like that, which made him thank Claire inwardly by her attire suggestions. He wasn't interested in designer clothes but neither he did want to look like a bum. He reached the elevator and pressed the top button.

His nervousness had been growing on and on since the minute he left his house and now was probably at its peak. He exhaled. Why he felt like a thief? He inhaled again. Looking both sides of the hallway Arnold hesitated for a second, and then chose to the right where indistinct voices could be heard. He exhaled one more time when he came to a halt in front of the door marked 17B. Should he knock? The door was ajar. He vacillated, not knowing what to do. Stepping into the building unannounced didn't sound that good idea.

Raising his hand to knock on the door and he stopped again. The voices were clear now. He smiled to himself. _That voice!_ Even if he didn't know he was about to meet Rhonda Lloyd he'd make out that snooty voice anywhere. So, standing by the door, half in - half out, he remained quiet. He didn't mind listening in to whatever the once 'Princess' had to say.

"And yes, you were right. He did call today. Out of all days! Can you believe it?" she scoffed with a haughty touch.

"Man! Talk about bad timing." Helga responded. There were small kitchen noises muffling the voices. Arnold had to strain to keep listening. "But that guy had always bad timing. In fact, I think that was exactly how you two met in the first place, didn't you?"

"I can't believe you remember." Rhonda said in a mumble.

"I have a prodigious memory!" Helga boasted "Anyway, what did he say when you said you had plans for the night."

"What do you think?"

"Let me guess, mmm? He got angry." It wasn't a question. Arnold frowned. Rhonda grumbled an affirmative reply. "Man, I don't know why you're still putting up with him! He's a jerk!" Helga all-wise response seemed to annoy Rhonda. She let out a puff.

"Alright! Let's talk about jerks!" she snorted. "Excuse me but I think I'm not the one who might be pregnant only because I didn't dare to say to my man 'no glove no love'."

"Hey! I'm not pregnant!" Helga complained loudly "Besides, we did have '_gloves_'; it was only that…" she rushed something unintelligible.

Arnold's ears buzzed. He shouldn't be snooping. This was way more than anything he ever wanted to know, but instead of knocking the door at once his feet remained still.

"How's that someone like him doesn't take condoms to a booty call?"

"It wasn't a booty call," the blonde grumbled "but you know that you never know when it comes to him…"

"You should've already found a way to figure it out," Rhonda's voice got muffled as could hear the sound of her heels moving around the place "You could be pregnant this very moment and all because of a boner."

"What? Wait! Nope. No way!" a slap was heard followed by Rhonda's complain. Arnold exhaled. The world started to move again. "For the love of God, Princess! What in the world 'running out of condoms' has anything to do with 'being pregnant'?!"

"He-llou!" was Rhonda's sarcastic reply. Helga scoffed.

"I didn't know you saw the crappy soap operas Bob used to see, Princess. What would your boss say if she knew, huh? Her favorite trainee losing her time watching some Brazilian drama?!"

"Her favorite trainee?" Rhonda scoffed "I wish!" she paused, but then went on "Still, don't take it on me. The negligent one in here – it's you."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Helga sighed "But here we are; 21 century and '_the city that never sleeps_'. You need to be really stupid if you get pregnant."

"Is '_the city that never sleeps_' and you're having sex unprotected?!"

"Well, it wasn't precisely unprotected…. And it's not as if he's a stranger after all!" Helga's exalted voice turned apologetic. "You know how it is. He shows up at my place without notice. Don't tell me it never happens to you. I thought he wanted to talk, didn't expect him to be so… high-spirited…" she puffed.

"You're crazy about him!" Rhonda's voice came weak through the crystal noises. Helga' scornful scoff break through easily. "Come on, just admit it at once!"

Whatever that followed to Rhonda's demand was muffled under the sound of the blender roaring to life. When the strident noise died it was her who was talking again.

"Henry would go crazy if it turns out you're pregnant."

"What is it with you and babies?!" Helga asked in awe "I'm not pregnant! I know my cycle."

"Would you like it? To be a mom?"

"Seriously Rhonda…" Helga started but the sound of glasses being filled was heard. She took a sip of something.

"And well?" The dark haired girl asked.

"You're getting better and better." She whistled "Almost Miriam's level."

"Told ya!" Rhonda exclaimed and then she also downed her drink. Arnold thought it was about time to announce his arrival now that the voices and noises stopped all together, but then the dark haired girl's voice spoke again. "You know?" she paused "At least nobody daresay you're with him only for his money." She paused "I mean, despite him being insanely rich and everything…"

After a loud inspiration Helga spoke.

"I guess you're right. Although I'm not so sure." she sighed "I'm sorry."

"What for?" certain bitterness filled Rhonda's voice.

"You being called that."

"It's not you who say it," it was obvious Rhonda was feigning nonchalance. "… but the pig himself."

"Hey! This is our night!" Helga interrupted her "Don't think about him. He's an idiot and I'm glad you're finally realizing. He was lucky to have you for a while. He had you, he lost you. Who's the loser now?"

"I know," Rhonda exhaled "But I still feel my blood boiling when I remember,"

"I know what you mean." Helga exhaled. The voices were closer now. "I swear if I see him again I'll introduce him to Old Betsy."

Rhonda laughed softly. "Forget about him."

"That's what I said from the beginning."

"Let's talk about you instead. You and those nine months of happily waiting."

"Gah!" Helga almost choked in her drink. Rhonda humor could be heard in her laugh as the blonde coughed.

"You'd look cute with your big belly," she giggled. They were about to leave the kitchen.

"Gee Rhon!" the blonde finally seemed to recover. They walked away, according to the sounds of their steps. "If I didn't know better I'd think that it's you who's dying to deal with stinky diapers and…"

That was it. Arnold raised his hand…

**Knock knock knock…**

"About goddamn time!" Helga nagged from somewhere inside the apartment.

Arnold pushed the door slowly when it got widely open.

"_Arnold!_" before Arnold could react he found himself in Rhonda arms. She hugged him tight and then kissed both of his cheeks.

"Rhonda…"

"Arnold Shortman…" she paused, giving a step back to take him in. Arnold did notice her eyes watching him thoroughly. They made a small pause at his arms and a mischievous smile appeared on her lips. "You didn't tell me he's gorgeous!" Rhonda called out over her shoulder. Helga pooh-poohed from somewhere inside. "Come on in." she finally pulled from his hand and closed the door behind him.

"It's good to see you too, Rhonda. Good lord! You're gorgeous!" Arnold managed to say.

"Why thank you sir!" Rhonda winked at him and did a little turn, like a model, and ended her act flashing him a million dollars smile.

"Though I don't know why I'm surprised. You were always gorgeous." Arnold eyed again her black faux leather jeggings and a semitransparent blouse. Her hair was different from what Arnold remembered. It fell in long waves and reached her mid back.

"Oh, Arnold. It's so nice to see you!" she clung to his arm with both hands and walked on, leaving the kitchen and foyer behind. "I can't believe I haven't seen you since…"

"I think it's since Phoebe and Gerald wedding?" he said.

"Oh God! Really? … But it felt like forever."

"Well," Helga uttered and Arnold turned to see her leaned over the fireplace. "I don't think we actually saw much of the old gang at the wedding. It was a big place and there were way too many people."

"Yeah, you might be right…" after seeing Helga stirring the fire Rhonda turned to see him again. It was an October night but it was already chill. The hearth was a cozy touch. "Because I don't remember seeing you at all"

"Well, I was there," he uttered after clearing his throat. Helga straightened from her position and he could see she was wearing a tan colored pair of leggings that looked like she was wearing nothing, nothing at all. A beige blouse and a stylish _'echarpe'_ completed the number. The sight took his breath away.

"Of course he was there," Helga replied coming to them "The best man, remember?"

"Of course!" Rhonda finally spoke "My God! I think you were actually at my table."

"Yep, that was it."

"Arnold…" Helga interrupted them pointing at the bags he was still holding. "Why don't you take your bags to the kitchen?"

"Sure."

"Make yourself at home." She called out as he walked back to the entrance, following her indications. "Fridge is hidden behind the door. Be careful coz Smoking Man is always lurking around.

_Smoking Man?_ It must be the dog, he thought. They have been years since last time Arnold heard that name.

The kitchen was by the entrance, to the left, that's what he could listen to them from outside. Arnold walked in and got surprised by the size of the room and all the cabinetry that covered the walls, from floor to the ceilings. At the bottom of the room there was a small window that looked over 58th street; it was wide open. Arnold sighed looking down. He walked back to the fridge and placed the beer on the top shelf. On the black marbled island there were a blender, an open bottle of tequila, lemon, salt, and other ingredients. He left the new bottle right there and went out before the girls started wondering his whereabouts. Before leaving Helga reached him.

"Would you like a margarita, Arnold?" she asked nicely as she washed her hands.

"No, thank you. I guess I can have a beer."

"There are some beers already cold in there," she said getting close. She ducked under his arm and stood in front of the fridge.

"I didn't know you liked beer." He said looking at the imported beer she had in there.

"Not my favorite pick-me-up but…" She shrugged her shoulders "Here" he handed him a bottle.

He thanked her and opened the drink. He didn't move. He was standing really close to her, invading her personal space in fact, but she had been the one who put herself in there, right?

"Anything else you like?" she asked with a mocking smirk, obviously aware of their position_. 'Sue me but I'm no backing away'_, he thought. Her eyes were inches away from his. He observed them with attention. He always liked her particular shade of blue; dark blue eyes with a black-rim circling them. It matched her dark brows… which oddly clashed with the light blonde of her hair. He always marveled…

"I always marveled…" he spoke without thinking.

"You didn't have trouble finding the place, I hope?" she cleared her throat interrupting him. She had been silent too. Had she been observing him?

"No… you were clear with the directions." he answered. "Actually I got trouble getting in…" Then he proceeded telling her about the missing doorman and the couple of residents who let him in.

"Really?" Helga frowned and closed the fridge. "Is Teddy sick or something?"

"I have no idea. I saw no one down there."

Telling him the snacks were on the coffee table she ushered him out of the kitchen and then went back to use the phone. She seemed worried but he left her alone. Rhonda was perched on the sofa checking on her phone when he reached the living room. Arnold turned around to observe the place. It was a large, spectacular apartment; the kind of place that make you turn down and check that your shoes are presentable. He could see another couple of rooms beyond the ample living room. They looked like gallerias of some sort.

He didn't know Helga was that outgoing and sociable. For what he knew about NYC, places like this were owned by people with a busy social life. Those beautiful walls, tall ceilings and careful decoration shouted opulence. He walked towards the front windows. Down there it was Park Avenue in full swing. If you were standing on the street right in front of the building you could see the Helmsley. Arnold frowned. Months ago Helga told him she lived in Chelsea and here we are now, he thought, Midtown.

"Hey guys! Can you… mmm… start without me?" Helga called out from the kitchen. "I'm going down but will be back in a blink." Arnold walked to the foyer but the entrance door was already closed. He turned to Rhonda who had a frown perched on her forehead.

"What happened?" she asked. Arnold opened his eyes showing his confusion. He told her what he'd told Helga. Rhonda nodded, understanding.

"There is a nice group of people living here." She said simply.

"No doubt!" Arnold smirked and drew out his arms showing the place. "How can you not when you live in a place like this?" he chortled.

"I know," Rhonda agreed, placing her cell phone over a table.

"It's weird." He added "I always thought about you living in a place like this, not Helga"

"Mmmm" Rhonda vacillated "I don't know if I should feel offended" she slowly said.

"Please don't be!" Arnold hurried to say "It was actually a compliment. I remember your house in Hillwood."

"Right," she smiled "That's what I supposed. You're Arnold, after all".

A sudden chortle coming from his throat froze his arm with the beer in midair.

"Now it's me who doesn't know if should feel offended."

Rhonda smile grew. He took a gulp of his drink.

"I didn't mean it in a bad way," that seemed an apology. Both of them smiled.

"Seems that we're even now."

"Yeah," Rhonda nodded. If something, their mutual slip seemed to work as an ice breaker. "So… where do you live, Arnold?" she asked. The blond boy vacillated. Was she still making him pay for his slip or… it was simply Rhonda at her best?

"Northward" he said "119th and… St. Nicholas?"

"By Columbia?"

"Yeah, just on the other side of the park" he nodded. She bit her lip.

"They said Harlem is hot."

Arnold chortled. "Downtown is hot." He corrected her with a smile "No doubt about. Where do you live, Rhonda, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Of course I don't." she said "Soho."

"Right," he smirked "Downtown."

She shrugged her shoulders "It's an okay neighborhood…"

"Bohemian, they say" he added. "Full with artists and cool people."

"Well, maybe. But mine is, you know, only a small, cozy apartment," she raised her glass and pointed to the walls "Nothing to do with this. Here's…"

"Opulent?" Arnold ended for her.

"Well," She nodded. "Yeah."

"I never expected Helga living in a place like this." He said to himself.

"Really?" she asked "What did you expect - if you don't mind _my_ asking of course," the corner of her lips turned upwards. Arnold smiled in reflex. She was indeed a gorgeous woman. Elegant, refined, gracious…. Was she correcting his speech?

"I don't know, not over-the-top that's for sure. Actually I thought she was more… on the bohemian side." He shrugged his shoulders

"Well, I guess you're right. Helga is less conventional than this, but you know, this place was bequeathed by will." She turned to see him "I don't know if you already knew it" Arnold nodded "Henry's wife decorated it by herself and I think Helga kinda likes to remember her. Other than the kitchen she's done practically no changes."

"Did you get to know her?" he asked "Mrs. Mueller?"

She walked to the end of the room and took a photograph from a shelf.

"Of course I did." Rhonda let out a nice smile. "She was a kind, very smart woman."

"Was she?"

"Hu huh" The dark haired girl nodded and handed him the photo. "She was lovely. You could never say no to her, no matter what she asked. Just the way you can't say not to Henry."

She proceeded to tell him that she met them when they all moved to the city about six, seven years ago. She was already a New Yorker on her own right.

"Helga and I didn't have this arrangement back then, you know, so I didn't see much of her, but they were really close, almost like mother and daughter. They did a lot of the moving together, they looked for apartments and…"

Arnold half listened as he observed the photo. It showed Helga and Mrs. Mueller in a side hug as they smiled to the photographer. Mrs. Mueller had white hair, but it was obvious she'd been a blonde. She was Helga's height, had similar constitutions and it you didn't know better you'd thought she was her mother.

Rhonda continued talking as he took a quick look to the rest of the photos. Helga and Miriam were in the second one. As he'd said before, Helga took more after Mrs. Mueller than after her own mother. Olga and her kids were on the third photo. The last one showed side by side her 'actual' family: Helga, Henry, his wife and Dick.

"You know?" he spoke when Rhonda made a pause "I… in my old memories, Helga is kinda…" he vacillated and raised his sight to see Rhonda's dark eyes fixed on him-

"_Kinda?"_

"Well," he blinked deliberately "the opposite of _soft_. I mean, she pushed people away. She liked her shell…" he placed the photo in its place and threw a last glance to the rest of them before walking along Rhonda to the living room. They got seated side by side on the - now that he got to think – extremely comfortable couch "I kinda find odd that she had… well… 'adopted' a family."

"Well, yeah," Rhonda sighed deeply "But Helga wasn't always like that. She changed over the time…"

"She did?"

Rhonda nodded "When we were seniors in high school she was way nicer. She was outgoing, you know, a regular star on the dance floor, had a couple of boyfriends and all that jazz." She paused "When we were at college I even thought she was going to get married before us all."

"Married? Really?" Arnold blinked.

"Well, yeah, she had a pretty possessive boyfriend. But then, her father passed away and she went back to her shell. Phoebe was really worried about her."

"Why? I heard she did well when she was on charge of her father's company."

"She did well, on the business field." Rhonda took another sip of her drink and Arnold thought she looked uncomfortable "But in the inside she was a mess."

"How was that?"

"Oh, Arnold…. I feel kind of uncomfortable talking to you about this." Rhonda stood and walked to the kitchen where she poured ingredients in the blender to make another mix. Arnold followed her movements. When she was done she filled a new glass and turned to see him. "You know how it is. Helga likes to keep her things private, -but in the other hand," she exhaled "I mean, you're Arnold after all; and I don't know why but I feel that I can trust you. You have always this… aura…. Besides," she snorted "Helga says you're still the same goody-two-shoes twer…"

Arnold chuckled and Rhonda let out a laugh.

"Sorry about that."

"Don't be. I know that would be Helga's exact words." He shrugged nonchalantly. "And it's okay. I understand that you want to respect her privacy." He opened the fridge to take another beer.

Rhonda shook her head. "Anyway, she changed once again." she said, continuing their previous conversation. Arnold wondered if she'd be able to stop herself. "After meeting them, the Muellers, she went back to her old self. It happened in a blink. I didn't see it coming. She called me one day to tell me she was selling the stores and that she was going some vacations after taking care of Miriam. But then, a month later she called again and she was completely a new person. She sounded happy, free… and was already way too involved with them."

"What do you think it happened?"

Rhonda shrugged her shoulders.

"They win her over? With love and attentions?" she looked at him in the eye. They walked back to the living room. Rhonda took a deep intake before going on "I think Helga was in dire need of a break. Before Bob died he… he made sure to put on her shoulders the responsibility of the family. She was only a girl, but Bob left her on charge of an alcoholic mother, a weak sister and a growing company."

"Why she felt she had to take charge of everything? Couldn't she say… _no_?"

"He asked her so, Arnold."

"Bob?"

Rhonda nodded. "On his deathbed…"

"As in a last… trust?"

Arnold didn't apart his eyes from her face. She made a grimace. "Bob Pataki didn't die the day of the heart attack." Rhonda went on "He survived a couple of days. And those days he made sure Helga understood someone has to take the lead and that someone has to be her. She was the strong one. Miriam was incompetent; Olga never got over her low frustration tolerance; she didn't work well when surrounds weren't perfect. Besides, she was having a difficult pregnancy."

"That had to be hard," Arnold mused.

"Tell me about it!" Rhonda exhaled.

"So you think the Muellers help her to get over this all?"

"Sure they did!" Rhonda waved her hand. "If we are able to see it from afar, Arnold; I mean, think about it for a second." Rhonda pointed to the empty single couch in front of her "Helga is right there, at her office. She's been charged with a burden that – alright – a burden that somewhat had become her reason for living, but at the same time it feels like a trap; like a prison. She has gotten to love what she does but at the same time it's _so exhausting_. She's tired, drained, she feels guilty, that's how I remember her…

"On the other side, you have the Muellers, who are older, wiser. They'd lost their kid. They are lonely… and Helga just walks into their picture. She becomes their sunshine. They help her to take the burden from her shoulders. They accept her just like she is and loved her for that. They respect her need to give recognition to Bob's legacy. They understand what is behind Miriam's problem. They know their past, they were there…

"It was like a win-win." Arnold mouth contorted when he pronounced the pushing expression.

"You said it." Rhonda sighed "Sometimes I wonder if it was his idea or hers, to take her in. If they planned it all along or if it just happened."

"Helga is really involved with them, isn't she?"

Rhonda nodded. "She's one of them." Arnold remained thoughtful. He'd never seen it this way. Helga was in fact one of them. That's why she talked about them as family; why she saw herself like a part of it. It was only matter of recalling that last picture on the shelf. "She's only missing the name…" Rhonda interrupted his train of thoughts "but that's something that could be easily fixed."

The blond boy opened big his eyes remembering Greg words of last week; he'd said almost the same. He was about to let out his thoughts when the door opened and Helga came in. She took her brown leather jacket off as she got close.

"Sorry about that," she apologized "but turns out that Teddy needed to be taken to the hospital. We just called an ambulance. Administration is sending someone else to cover him."

She took a seat in front of them. Rhonda offered her a drink. Helga took it.

"What happened?"

She shook his head. "It seems he fell and hit his head. Dr. Mortimer said it's a slight concussion and he hopes he'll be right."

"Dr. Mortimer is…?" Arnold asked.

Helga nodded. "A neighbor. Twelfth floor," she exhaled "Anyway, sorry I have to leave. But I'm here now," she flashed a smile and drew out her arms "Hope you two already got to break the ice"

"What ice?" Rhonda laughed, patting Arnold shoulder "We're best friends already! It feels as if we never stopped seeing each other," she turned to him, grinning, and then her smile turned mischievous as her hand slid down to grope his arm. "Mmmm yummy," She giggled then and turned to Helga "Do you know Arnold lives just around the corner from your old place at Columbia?"

"Really?" Helga had been following Rhonda's grope with a knowing smile. She turned to see him as she leaned back in her chair. "I actually was housed at the campus. 114th street?"

Arnold nodded. It turned out she had once been across the park in an area that belonged to the university. Talking about college housing and facilities led them to take about colleges. Good old times. Arnold never guessed Rhonda had actually made Business and Communication and not, let's say, Fashion. Helga had already told him she started Literature her first time around. Then she moved to Finances.

"So you've been a happy lawyer?"

Several beers and margaritas later, the blond boy was leaning comfortably on the single couch.

"You can say so," he smirked. It hadn't been 'happy' actually, but he didn't say it. Until seven months ago or so he'd been nearly amongst the underemployed; he'd quitted his last job with something that could be seen by any HR department as a lame excuse.

"And what do you have to say about your actual job, huh?" Rhonda continued her interrogation.

"I don't complain."

"Complaining?" Helga sneered "He's had two promotions in the last months, how about that?! Have you ever seen a more meteoric career?"

"Really?" Rhonda looked at him surprised.

"As I said, I don't complain." Arnold struggled to hide that he was actually proud of his achievements. Along achievements came more responsibilities, but also rewards. His incomes were a completely new level. He could look for a new place if he wanted, but he was happy where he was. It was a nice neighborhood. Moving meant a lot of changes and he wasn't sure if he wanted to go through something like that right now.

Sighing deeply, Arnold turned to see Helga. She was seated on the carpet in front of him. So far she had not let out any sign of interest. Rhonda was perched on the couch behind her. There were plates and silverware on the coffee table. Food had arrived a while ago and was placed on a lateral table where they could help themselves every time they feel like it. As the host had said there were sushi, sandwiches and salads to feed about ten persons. Everything was so delicious that Rhonda asked Helga for the caterer.

An unexpected hum startled him and he turned around. All what he could see was a moving ball of grey fur. He turned to the other side. Deep blue eyes were looking at him attentively.

"Cigarette Smoking Man aka Smokey" Helga introduced him. The cat had ended his visual examination and was now proceeding to use his nose on him. "Smoking!" Helga called him "Let Arnold alone and come here." She patted the spot at her side. "We have sushi."

"Smoking?" Arnold laughed.

Unhurriedly, the cat obeyed her and from his new spot on her lap he looked at Arnold with suspicion and disdain. Catty eyes. Helga told him she found the cat in the street after seeing a very particular episode of The X Files. She liked the name and it seemed to fit the cat.

. . .

The evening went on. To this hour they had already talked about food, favorite restaurants and walks, the old Hillwood's gang or what they knew about them nowadays. It seemed that Rhonda was still the Gossip Queen. She told them that Sid was given a six months sentence for cocaine possession. He was lucky. He was sentenced as a usual junkie, not as a criminal, which he really was. He wasn't a drug addict himself. It was suspected that the drug was planted on his car to set him up.

But enough about dark news. On the bright side, Lila had another baby, the fourth! Roll of eyes everywhere, even catty eyes, Arnold snorted. It seemed that happiness showered the ex-Sawyer girl. What else? Oh, yes, Harold's wife had kicked him of the house recently, just after finding out he was having an affair with no other than Patty Smith, their old classmate.

"Oh-oh! Such a disappointment!" Helga whined "I always thought Big Patty wasn't as dumb as she made us to think"

"She wasn't dumb, Helga!" Arnold complained.

"He-llou!" she rolled her eyes "She's been doing Harold Berman?!" she grimaced. "Gross!

Rhonda stirred uncomfortably. "And you're one to tell us who is a good or bad lay?" she let out a crooked smile as she asked pointedly to the blonde.

"Come on! I beat you any day!" Helga grumbled and her eyes looked menacing. Arnold hid his smirk. Were they fighting? He wondered if it was an effect of the tequila, or if it has something to do with the talk he'd eavesdropped earlier. About unprotected sex?

Unprotected sex wasn't the big deal, as long as you knew your partner, he thought. He hadn't use protection in years. Claire was on the pill…. Oh, oh…. An alarm got off in his mind.

But he didn't have time to think furthermore because chatting escalated quickly with the girls. He'd only seen this before with Claire and Brenda who couldn't stop chatting for the sake of it. Talking about Claire and Brenda, there was no way he was not going to tell them this all.

"Oh, right Princess. I think I remember Harold saying something about a kiss on the boat-ride at the old Cheese Festival, huh? And do you happen to remember your egg 'daughter' Courtney? Just admit it. You liked Harold, period."

"Why I never!" Rhonda cried, putting her hands in her hips "Oh yeah? Sure that this is how you want to play? Because I also remember grade school!"

"Oh really?"

"Of course I do! For instance, let's start with the bunch of anonymous poems that were always read in class by our teachers. I remember Stinky used to say that 'Anonymous' started with a silent 'H'?"

Helga turned to see briefly at him with amused eyes before replying.

"It was always clear that that geek bait has poor spelling, I thought you knew it."

"Maybe he had, but you know, once we were playing this silly game… truth or dare… do you happen to remember it?"

"How to forget it? It was the main entertainment at _your_ parties!" she cracked.

"Oh, God, were we silly or what?" Rhonda let out a mocking laugh. Arnold frowned. Were they really pulling at each other? He decided to wait a little longer before butt in.

"Anyway, Stinky once revealed…"

"His secret to grow gigantic pumpkins?"

"No!" Rhonda's discourse turned bored "that one he's keeping secret in Arkansas. He said someone actually paid him once to pretend being her boyfriend."

"And do you think it was me?" Helga asked with open eyes.

"Let's say you were the only one who wasn't present."

"That must be me then."

"What you have to say about that, huh?"

"He had a bad breath? It was a torture to talk to him; to make him do something right?"

"Geez! You're not going to deny it?" Rhonda leaned towards her.

"Come on, Princess! What's the big deal?" Helga shrugged her shoulders "Everybody knew I was crazy about the Football Head here." Helga threw him a strip of cucumber peel "It's as inane as if I wanted to make fun of him for, let's say" she seemed to think "Oh, God!" she cracked a laugh "I've totally forgotten this! Hey Arnold, do you remember when you invited Lila to the movies but she kept saying no because you weren't that oh-so special someone she was looking for?"

"God!" Rhonda also laughed "I remember she saying she didn't like you- like you, she only liked you."

Arnold grunted. "You don't have idea how those words frustrated me."

"Yeah, and then the girl then fell for the weird of your cousin. Man! I couldn't believe it!"

"That was a laugh! She fell flat for his 'charms'. What were those, by the way? Collecting lint?" Rhonda laughed.

Arnold's mind went back to those old times. "Oh, my God!" he said aloud, turning to Helga "And then he went to dump her because he said he was in love with you!"

"Smart kid!" she clicked her tongue; but then groaned. "Do you know he mailed me 'love letters' for like forever?" Helga made quotation marks in the air "I didn't even understand his writing, thanks God! And he also sent gum packs and lint!"

"He did what?" Arnold almost choked in his beer.

"It was weird. Don't make me go back to remember details, alright?"

"Gross! That's' terrible Helga!" Rhonda made a face "What did you do?"

"Return to sender." She shrugged her small shoulders "Bob ended asking Harvey the mailman to stop bringing all that shit over."

"Gosh!" Arnold blinked "I never knew that."

"It was none of your business" she said indifferently.

He turned to see Helga putting a face. Then raised his sight to see Rhonda who was also grimacing.

"Are you alright Rhonda?"

"Yeah, it's only that you make me remember my _own_ stalker."

"Who? Curly?" he smiled "The guy was crazy about you"

"It wasn't Curly. Curly was inoffensive. The other guy though, he was sick." Rhonda shivered.

"Who was it?" Arnold asked

"I don't remember his name." she said with disgust. Arnold frowned

"It was not funny." Helga added.

"How so?" Arnold kept his frown "How bad it could be?" he asked "I mean, you used to stalk me."

"I know, and when I think back it gives me the creeps." Helga said, serious. "After what happened to Rhonda…" she shook her head "I mean, you hear about a girl stalking a boy and people thinks is funny, cute."

"But a boy stalking a girl? Showing up at her bedroom? At her bathroom?" Rhonda straightened in her seat. "It's creepy; beyond creepy."

"Why I never knew?" Arnold turned to see the girls and wondered all the bunch of things he never got to know. And he always thought he knew everything about his hometown, but the truth was that they had really grown apart. After they left PS118 it was never the same. And then Hillwood turned a dangerous place.

The girls stood. Rhonda went to the ladies room and Helga went back to the kitchen for sodas. Arnold wandered around the place wanting to get rid of those thoughts. He loved Hillwood.

. . .

He walked into next room and as he had supposed it was a gallery, a room with no sofas or seats of any type but counters, tables, paintings and decoration that showed-off sophistication. The last room of that wing was completely different. It was also a social room but this one was more inviting. It was an all-panel room with cozy couches and warm illumination. He headed for the French doors at the end of the place and hesitated. He took another swig of his beer and looked outside. Central Park was a few blocks away though it couldn't be seen because of the buildings. From this height everything looked so calm. His sight flew from one place to the next, trying to make out buildings and places he knew.

. . .

"Boo!"

A tangible shiver ran from the back of his neck.

"Holy shit!" Arnold jumped out of his skin. She laughed quietly. Mumbling in his ear seemed to have taking him by surprise.

Then he laughed nervously, leaning over. "Jesus Helga, you almost make me cry!"

"That was the intention." She stuck out her tongue at him and walked ahead with a mocking smile. Opening the French doors she stepped outside, to the balcony. He followed her. She caressed the shiny leaf bushes she had in there. She was proud of them.

"This place is so cool!" by the corner of her eye she saw Arnold touching the plants too.

.

* * *

**Sorry I have to cut it off somewhere. **** : ) For now this is it. I'll be back around Wednesday. **

**Let's go with the customary: I don't own Hey Arnold! **

**I don't own any or the TM mentioned here. Only own the plot and the OC.**

**Thank you for reading. Reviews are welcome. Special thanks to Jose Ramiro, Nep2uune, Carlin and Presley Rox.**

**Written all along June. **

**Posted: 06/27/2015**


	19. Old Hillwood and Blabbing

**Rocket to the Moon**

**Chapter Nineteen**

**Old Hillwood and Blabbing**

* * *

. . .

He walked into next room and as he had supposed it was a gallery, a room with no sofas or seats of any type but counters, tables, paintings and decoration that showed-off sophistication. The last room of that wing was completely different. It was also a social room but this one was more inviting. It was an all-panel room with cozy couches and warm illumination. He headed for the French doors at the end of the place and hesitated. Taking another swig of his beer and he looked outside. Central Park was a few blocks away though it couldn't be seen because of the buildings. From this height everything looked so calm. His sight flew from one place to the next, trying to make out buildings and places he knew.

* * *

. . .

"Boo!"

A tangible shiver ran from the back of his neck.

"Holy shit!" Arnold jumped out of his skin. She laughed quietly. Mumbling in his ear seemed to have taking him by surprise.

Then he laughed nervously, leaning over. "Jesus Helga, you almost make me cry!"

"That was the intention." She stuck out her tongue at him and walked ahead with a mocking smile. Opening the French doors she stepped outside, to the balcony. He followed her. She caressed the shiny leaf bushes she had in there. She was proud of them.

"This place is so cool!" by the corner of her eye she saw Arnold touching the plants too.

"Yeah, it is." She breathed deeply the cold October air "Sometimes I regret giving up smoking only to have an excuse to be here more frequently."

"I didn't know you smoked." He said turning to see her.

"Come on, Arnold," she elbowed him. "You know nothing about us anymore."

"Mmm." He laughed softly "Well, I guess you can still enjoy a drink or two over here."

"Drinks are just not the same, but anyway…" she raised her drink in the air. Arnold's bottle clinked with her glass.

"Where's Rhonda?" he asked. Helga was sipping from her drink. After swallowing she replied.

"She's on the phone," she raised his eyes to look at him and a playful grin appeared on her face. "Got a booty call. I'm afraid she's gonna ditch out on us."

"What?!" he seemed to freeze.

"I'm kidding!" Geez Arnold! You're so gullible," she mocked him. "What are you afraid of?"

"She's not leaving, right?"

"Of course not." Helga scoffed to herself. It seemed that ole football head had become some kind of Don Juan. He'd just tried to hit on her in the kitchen and now was oh-so worried about Rhonda leaving early. Besides, one shouldn't forget he had a steady girlfriend. '_Don't ever trust the quiet ones'_, she reminded herself. "She'd been looking forward to this reunion the entire month." She added.

"Yeah, me too. It'd be a shame to end it soon."

Helga nodded, turning her sight to look ahead. He did the same.

"So Park Avenue, huh?" his voice reached her after a long silence.

"Excuse me?" she turned to see him. Seemed that Football Head liked close contact; he was too close again. She exhaled. She was happy to realize the boy wasn't that short anymore; she had to raise her sight to look at him in the eye; two inches or so, which wasn't bad. He seemed he also noticed because he turned down to see her barefoot. She wiggled her toes. He smiled.

"You told me the other day you lived in Chelsea… and here we are… at Midtown."

"Oh, that," she smirked "Well, Arnold. I remember you as a nice guy and all, but I didn't know you anymore. I wasn't going to tell you everything about me that easily."

"Fair," he nodded. "It's a nice place." His head pointed inwards. Helga followed his sight.

"Yeah, it is." She suspired but didn't add anything else, unlike Rhonda, who told him the whole story.

"It seems that you were right. About me not knowing anything about you anymore," he spoke again "And half of what I thought I knew now I realize I was mistaken." He ended.

"Like living at Chelsea?" She asked.

"Or having a dog." He smirked "I saw you at the park the other day, walking a dog. A Shih Tzu."

She smiled. "Prince is not mine. It's Luke's. I guess you already met him." She touched the tip of his nose "But if it makes you happy, I have a cat."

"I wonder what other things I think I know about you and I'm actually mistaken…" he leaned his side on the rail and turned to her. His eyes looked at her intently, as if he wanted to figure out everything about her. She smirked and opened big her eyes, holding his sight and playing along. Who the Football Head thought he was? The Great Arnoldini?

* * *

. . .

"So here you are!" Rhonda haughty voice reached them, "Guys, you don't have to go hide behind doors to get dirty. If you want to be alone you only have to say it."

Helga puffed.

"Yeah, right!" Helga stepped inside and Arnold followed again, closing the doors. "How was that?" she asked in low voice. Arnold was surprised to see Helga lessened her usual scorn and was nice to her friend.

"You know him." Rhonda grumbled and shrugged her small shoulders. "I don't know why I bother taking the call."

"We wouldn't be girls." Helga said sparingly, walking towards the living room along Rhonda. Arnold fell behind and pretended admire the sculptures in the other room to give them space.

It was a good idea. They started talking in low voice about what they thought Arnold didn't know a thing about. He was still kinda upset; he'd been expecting to make Helga spit her relationship with Henry. But thinking twice what could be the point? Helga coming clean made no difference. Rhonda's words left no doubts. He fought back the queasy feeling inside him. What was his problem? He exhaled

The boy raised his sight and couldn't help but observe them carefully. They were so similar and so different and at the same; two beautiful women reaching their thirties and living in NY who had a lot in common. Ambitions, dreams, success…. But at the same time they were the same old little girls from Hillwood, and had their own particular personality each. One of them was once a raw wannabe socialite and the other a rude and unladylike bully. Both of them seemed to have gained depth as they got older; wisdom… and sophistication. Regarding the looks, they were both tall, had the body of a model and wore designer clothes; only that one of them was a radiant blonde with blue eyes and the other a stunning raven haired with dark grey eyes; the dream of every man in the world. Arnold smiled remembering Claire's words. He had two girls to himself tonight, if only platonically. He should be enjoying the moment, which was probably everything he was ever got to get from them.

* * *

. . . .

Old Hillwood came back as topic with full force. Rhonda laughed watching Helga's cracking a laugh when she listened to Arnold.

"An okay town?" she made a pause to recover her breathe after laughing hard "Are you serious? Come on, Arnold! Don't let your love for your hometown make you blind. Hillwood was a freak town."

"Freak town? That's a harsh, Helga!" he complained, maybe too loud. How many beers had he had, she wondered; seemed that Arnold couldn't hold his liquor. Rhonda drew a small smile on her face. "Rhonda, what do you think?"

"It was a dump!" she supported Helga. The girls shared a knowing smile.

"Come on! It wasn't that bad!"

"Admit it Arnold!" Helga grinned "It was lousy."

"It's just like the next town."

"Alright, I admit that there surely are worst places to live, but our Hillwood wasn't precisely pretty." Rhonda conceded.

"Maybe you two have accustomed to prettier places now, and you've forgotten it was in fact, fine."

"It wasn't nice. It might be 'cool'…" Helga elbowed Rhonda.

"For an artistic type like you, I'd accept 'nice'." Rhonda offered "We had a hell of a childhood in there, but that doesn't mean it was pretty."

Arnold shook his head as he took another swig of his beer. "I can't believe you guys."

"You remember all those freaks? Pigeon Man, Monkey Man…?" Helga started.

"Stoop Kid?" Rhonda added.

"Oh God! The Sewer King. Ugh…. All those thugs making their deals at every corner?"

"Prostitutes…" Rhonda wrinkled her nose.

"The guys counterfeiting pennies at Elk Island. God! Could they be more stupid?!"

The three of them laughed.

"Oh, my God! Principal Wartz…" Helga went on.

"Principal Wartz?" Arnold asked.

"Do you remember him? His desk drawers full with toys. I mean little kid's toys?"

"Weird,"

"I never got to see his drawers" Arnold said turning slowly his head to look at her. "You mean you two broke in to the Principal office?" he asked.

"Too much information. You're exposing yourself, homie." Rhonda said in low falsely warning voice.

"Oh, big deal!" Helga snorted "As if Arnold were going to rat on us. Who cares now anyway? Besides, is not as if he'd ever rat on someone, right? Remember that mooning episode and Arnold didn't spill the beans?"

Rhonda saw Arnold opening big his eyes. He had surely forgotten about it.

"Full moon…" he mumbled as to himself "I endured four weeks of detention, and never gave Sid, Stinky or Harold away."

"Well, everybody has their flaws." She mumbled.

That brought a new round of jokes. The three of them laughed remembering Sid getting obsessive about germs; Curly snapping about being the ball monitor; and Phoebe, the always proper nice and brainy girl, becoming a power-hungry tyrant when it was her turn to be the hall monitor.

"I remember also when you wore that ugly t-shirt that read "Curly's girl" Helga said.

"Argh!" Rhonda grumbled. "Yeah, and you two bunch of hypocrites." She added "I remember all of you feeling sorry for the whacko only because he was 'heartbroken' after I dumped him." she made quotation marks in the air.

"You dumped him at the cafeteria!" Helga said "In front of the Entire. School. Population."

"That was pretty cruel, Rhonda." Arnold agreed.

"Oh, shut up! You never got to know the rest of the story." Rhonda complained.

"You remember when Curly freed all the animals of the zoo?" He went on ignoring their commentaries.

"Poor twisted little freak."

"Yeah, I remember. Why would he do that?" She frowned.

"He was mad at you because you put him in the geek list and didn't invite him to your so called 'Cool Party." Helga remembered.

"Gawd! The Cool Party! What a fiasco!" The three of them snickered again.

They remained silent for a while probably recalling the details of the event until Rhonda spoke again.

"Remember the gipsy stand? Madame Blanche?" she asked "You know Curly once went to get a 'Love Potion' and the guy followed me for days, trying to trick me into drinking it!" she whined. She stopped realizing both, Arnold and Helga, stirred uncomfortable in their seats and her grimace turned into a grin. "What is it? You got a Love Potion too?"

Helga seemed to think for a moment but then spoke resolutely.

"Well, I actually went to get an 'Anti-Love Potion" she said "I wanted to fell out of love with…" she puffed pointing with her chin to the blond seated at her right. Arnold threw her a tender smile. If she didn't know better the dark haired girl daresay he was smitten. She sighed. It was a shame. All these years later. All those wasted years. She took air again. Now it wasn't possible. So far she knew Arnold was practically engaged to his girlfriend; and Helga…

"I actually went on Friday the 13th to get a good luck charm so I could get over Wolfgang's curse." Arnold nice and deep voice brought her back from her reverie.

"Wolfgang!" Helga cried "I had forgotten about that loser! You guys remember the longest Monday all those years ago?"

"The Trash Can Day!"

"Yuck!" Rhonda made a face. "I still can feel the smell!"

"Did they catch you Helga?" Arnold asked "I saw them catching Rhonda after they broke into Park's safehouse, and they finally reached me and Gerald after we were led directly to Wolfgang by Mike the Weasel, but I never knew if they got to caught you"

"Mike the Weasel?" Helga asked skeptic "What in the hell were you doing hanging around with Mike the Weasel on Trash Can Day?"

"He was supposedly 'helping' us." Arnold looked down. Helga raised her eyes to the ceiling in disbelief. Rhonda snorted.

"There's a reason why they called him 'The Weasel', don't you think?" she asked.

" I knew it right then" Arnold had the decency to look embarrassed. How… _innocent_… could someone be? Rhonda snorted turning to Helga expecting the blonde would trash Arnold for his stupidity, but for a strange reason it seemed Helga wouldn't mock him this time and she was left to shake her head and wonder if love was in the air again.

Could it be? The raven haired girl sighed. She seriously doubted it. Helga didn't just fall in love; she obsessed over the guy in turn and right now her mind was no vacant. She turned to see Helga recalling when Wolfgang and Ludwig made them play a game to see who the biggest bully in the block was. That made her recall a juicy gossip that she learned recently.

* * *

. . .

"Do you know those guys live together?" Arnold turned to see Rhonda straightening in her seat, ready to start a new round of gossiping.

"Who?" Helga asked, raising her sight.

"Who are we talking about? Ludwig and Wolfgang of course!" she rolled her eyes "Sure you remember them, always the big machos doing macho stuff, right? Well, last thing I heard was that they were buying a new dryer machine because the old one didn't match their washing machine"

"Huh?" it was he who asked now. He was lost. He saw Helga's frown growing; clearly confused. He was expecting a neck slap after telling the way he'd been tricked by Mike the Weasel but Rhonda seemed to have moved on with the conversation.

"They moved together! Their close ones say they are 'confused' about their sexual identity…"

"Say what?!" Helga and him asked in unison and turned to see her.

Rhonda smiled proudly by having caught their full attention and proceeded to tell what Sheena had told her. Apparently Sheena worked at a department store. Arnold observed Rhonda as she retold the story in great detail. It was obvious she enjoyed this; it was almost as if she kept a mental record of every single data that reached her knowledge. She probably had a mental file of everybody she knew. Should people feel honored by being at her database? Arnold wondered how fat his own file would be.

"And Sheena says she heard Ludwig saying moving together was quite a discovery; and now they are decorating their new house in pastel" Arnold leaned back in his seat and laughed. Helga seemed to be as amused as him and Rhonda barely could keep at bay her excitement.

"Maybe the attraction was always there but it took its time to develop," the blonde retorted, standing up and walking towards the fireplace "Surely you both remember all that 'romance' when Ludwig came back from juvenile hall Ha!"

Arnold chortled, "Yeah, I remember."

"Man! The way they kept nudging at each other…" she stopped as she checked her cellphone. So it was the cause of all that buzzing.

"So you think it's something old?" Rhonda asked.

"It was _odd_, that's for sure." She retorted as she fumbled with her phone.

"We were nine years old kids" Arnold opined "Would never guessed what was really going on. Probably not even them knew."

"What was it?" Rhonda asked with a smirk. "A 'bromance' with benefits?"

Arnold shrugged.

"Oops!" Helga made a face when the phone started to buzz again. "I have to take this." She announced and disappeared behind a door.

Arnold turned to see Rhonda. Then pointing his head to the door he asked.

"Who could it be?" It was after midnight according to his watch.

"A booty call?" she chirped. The expression of her face was unique. Arnold chortled.

"What is it with you two and all those booty calls?" he asked. "Helga told the same about you earlier."

"The bitch!" Rhonda grumbled although she didn't seem annoyed "It's a private joke Arnold. Although," she wriggled her brows "…it's past midnight" she stopped right there, enjoying keeping him on tenterhooks.

"Do you know who it is or not?" he insisted. Rhonda snorted.

"I have an _idea _who could it be…" she spoke slowly.

"Mr. Mueller?" he asked. Rhonda fixed her dark eyes on him, but then she laughed, shrugging her shoulders.

"I can't say yes… and I can't say no. And yes… and no… and yes…" She went on chanting. Taking in her expression he couldn't make out the truth; he knew she could keep playing this game forever. Arnold exhaled. "What is with all this enquiring Arnold? Do you care about Helga?" her face changed to an expression that looked like pity.

"She's a beautiful woman" he said before he could stop himself.

"I'm not asking that; I have eyes." she smirked "I'll take that for a yes," she mumbled to herself turning around and walking to the table "Not that I blame you. Looks aside, she's also a great girl; has always been."

"Yeah, she is." He observed her taking a pinch of sushi.

"She's smart, so full of passion…" He nodded. "Sometimes I wish I had her wittiness. The way she speaks out her mind…" Rhonda paused as she took the tiny piece to her mouth.

He never thought he'd heard praises to Helga coming from another woman. If he didn't know better he'd think Rhonda was up to something. Trying to make Helga look perfect to his eyes, maybe. Arnold snorted; why she'd do that? He raised her sight to see Rhonda's face in the exact moment her sympathetic smile morphed into a smug "And here I was, thinking you were happy with your girlfriend,"

"_Fuck!"_

It was too late; he'd fallen in her trap. Rhonda Lloyd was going to make him spill the beans about her relationship with Claire; all the beans. Arnold exhaled resignedly. The way you do when you know you're fucked.

* * *

. . .

Question_. – "How did you two meet?"_

Answer: At a flea market."

Q. – "_When?"_

A. - "Almost five years ago."

Q. - "_Was it love at first sight" _

A. - "Nope."

They hadn't started a relationship right away. Arnold had been seeing someone else and Claire had a boyfriend too. They interchanged phone numbers due to their mutual interest in jazz vinyls.

About a year later she called to invite him to a jazz show. Her friend, Brenda, stood her up. She was single by the way, he was kinda single too. The rest was easy to guess. They have fun together; had a lot of things in common. She moved to his place within the next year. They had had a very good time.

Arnold had to admit that Rhonda had a gift to take information out of people. She made it look as if talking about things you don't used to talk was the most natural thing in the world. Retelling this story made Arnold realize it was too predictable; they were too predictable. It was almost like if it was written in a book; Love for Dummies or something like that. As if it all had been a set-up? Had Claire planned it from the beginning? Because he didn't, that's for sure.

Well, long story short, here he was. Talking to the terrifying gossip queen who listened to him with her full attention; she was in her element; her eyes shone with a special glint. He almost could envision how she pulled out the fat file named Arnold and updated it. But strangely Arnold realized he was feeling at ease, uninhibited; and even when he was talking way more than he used to talk –ever; to anybody - he felt calm.

"And now that she's not receiving money from Mueller what happened to her plan?"

"Well, the success of Eyes for US called the attention. The wife of a councilman is trying to help them to take their plan to the city."

"That sounds like a great opportunity." Rhonda nodded half surprised "And this girl, Brenda, is still around?"

"Yeah, she is…. Sometimes I feel as if Claire is happier at her side than mine." He snorted.

Rhonda chortled "Why is that?"

"Don't listen to me," he added slowly. "It's just an impression." Friday night; old friends; beer… they were no good for his discretion.

"Maybe things have been cooling down between you two?" Arnold frowned "I mean, it's normal to certain point; and it's also obvious your relationship is far from perfect…"

"Hey," Arnold cut her off "That's not what I'm saying." He straightened in his seat.

"You're not saying it with words but that's what I hear."

"I don't think…"

"Shh shh shh" Rhonda dismissed him and went on "Besides, there's this little thing you have with Helga. You wouldn't be experiencing attraction to her if your actual relationships were healthy…"

"First of all, I'm not admitting anything. But don't tell Helga anyway…" Rhonda smiled a knowing smile. "And secondly,"

"I don't think it'd be necessary" she shrugged indifferently. "Nevertheless, I think you should think what you are doing in there. Maybe it's time to start questioning to where your relationship is going."

Arnold was about to shot an appropriate comeback but no voice left his mouth. He only exhaled long. Here it was; the truth slapping him right in the face. He breathed deeply again, and again, and again. And after a long minute he finally spoke.

"I know." He admitted dejectedly "I know we're far from perfect. I know something is happening, but I don't know what it is. Don't get me wrong. I love Claire…" Rhonda looked at him with sympathy "And I know she loves me too. I mean, I am conscious that there are some things happening in the background, but that doesn't mean we're going for a break up…"

"I understand…"

"And please don't think I'm a bad person. In fact, I think she's also experiencing…." He paused "Sometimes I feel like there's someone else."

If Arnold would put more attention to her, he'd realized Rhonda's eyes spark grew. "Why you say that?"

"Because she's…" he raised her eyes to look at her "She's been acting…"

"Strange?" she leaned forward.

"No strange, but different. She's more… passionate…" Arnold cheeks flushed and he lowered his sight "It's… weird."

"Weird?" Rhonda frown turned a wicked smile "What do you mean by weird? It's not nice? She didn't use to be like that?"

"_We_ didn't use to be like that. We weren't bad either, only…"

"Oh, my God! She's getting dirty?!"

"No dirty! Maybe…"

"Naughty?"

Arnold hesitated before nodding his head; his cheeks were beet red by now. "It doesn't happen all the time, only in occasions… And I don't know what triggers it. We… we were okay… but lately… things are getting m…more intense_? _I've been thinking; it could be the age. We're getting old. I'm thirty-one now."

"You sure she's not making a cuckold of you?"

"Of course not!" he blinked with disbelief.

"You know - you could be cheating yourself…"

"But I'm not; I'm sure." He looked at her "I mean, just look at me, I'm not cheating on her even when I am…" he stopped abruptly.

"… In love with someone else?"

"I'm not in love…" he grumbled.

"Alright, - words!" she rolled her eyes "_'had a crush'_ on someone else?"

Arnold only shrugged his shoulders. He raised his head and saw the bottle in his hand. He should stop drinking. He needed to clear up his mind and keep his mouth shut. What he was doing? Blabbing his private life to no other than Rhonda Lloyd?

He got up, walked to the kitchen and brought a couple of Coca-Colas from the fridge.

"Yeah, maybe 'having a crush' is a better word," he said taking his seat again, feeling guilty and being incapable to stop himself. He offered her the other soda and Rhonda took it.

"Well, that's not a bad thing per se," she looked at him with a skeptic expression; probably wondering why he still was such a prude "I mean, you're a healthy man who feels attracted to a beautiful girl. Big deal! Do you really think you're the only one? You're gonna feel guilty now and are going to whip yourself when no one sees."

"That's not me, but…"

"Come on! You just said even Claire is having…"

"I'm not sure. It's just an impression. Maybe I want to believe it so I don't feel so guilty for being attracted to someone else…"

"Arnold! Just listen to yourself!" Rhonda stood, raising her voice. She came to seat by his side. "Do you think perfect romances exist?" she smirked. "It's people like me who made them up. It's nice to see them published. It's nice to read them and then lie down to have something to dream about. But they are not real. I don't think I know a single couple who had a happy, healthy relationship. Everybody is crazy. I, for instance, am in love with a married man who happens to have a sick relationship with his wife/ex-wife/ wife and soon to be ex-wife again, can you believe it? Me?" she puffed and rolled her eyes "There's this other guy; he claims he loves me and he'd do anything for me and sometimes I'm afraid he means it; which actually worries me to death. One of my best friends at work, his girlfriend is a meth head and he's still with her. Another one, his boyfriend beats the shit out of her every time he feels like it and…"

"Rhonda…"

"I know…" she nodded "Everybody has their secrets. And in the end of the day we all put up with all this some way, and we think we're normal. See? You're not half bad. And I also know what you think. You're not gonna leave Claire only because your eyes got distracted by certain blonde who used to worship the ground you walked on, right?"

"Exactly…"

"It's only a delusion. I understand you, Arnold. Believe me, I understand." she patted his shoulder.

Arnold nodded. "It is only a delusion." He said to himself.

They remained in silence for some time. Each one lost in their own contemplations. Every now and then Arnold could hear Helga's voice rising for a moment but then she went back to mumbles. He raised his questioning eyes to Rhonda

"That's another one with huge plights." She stated.

Arnold grumbled. He could only imagine. Even when people wouldn't peg her for a gold-digger, it didn't mean Helga had it easy, right? Being the girlfriend of an old man…

"Arnold…" Rhonda added after a pause. She'd been looking to the floor but then raised her sight to look at him in the eye "Look, you know I like you. You're my friend." She exhaled "And as my friend I think I should warn you. Helga…" she looked to the door behind him "she's unavailable. I think it's matter of time that they make it public."

. . .

* * *

**Sorry again for the sudden cut. Next chapter is ready and I'll be posting it on Sunday. Promise. The delay was because I wanted to put it all together and took a couple of days to realize it wasn't possible. The tone in each one is different. As a present for your waiting I want to give you a few leads of what's coming:**

**Chapter 20. Still at Helga's place. It's Rhonda's turn to blab one of her secrets; which ends being not her personal secret by the way, but someone else's. Helga's moody when she comes back from her call.**

**Chapter 21. Helga is driving guests back to their homes. After dropping Rhonda off the ride takes a detour; an unpredicted decision that helps Helga and Arnold to develop a deeper bond.**

**Chapter 22. After a petty fight with Claire a couple of weeks later, Arnold goes out for a solo walk and finds himself knocking at Helga's door. He needed a friend to talk to. The 'ear' he finds inside wasn't the one he was expecting.**

**Chapter 23. Sunday late afternoon and he's on a date with Claire. Things hadn't been smooth lately between them. A walk, dinner and a show was the plan until he receives a call from one of his bosses. His help is required. What would be Claire reaction to the disruption?**

**Chapter 24. While being at a party with one or Claire's friends from the voluntaries' gang, Arnold stumbles upon a startling discovery that involves Helga.**

**I thinks that's all for now. I DON'T OWN HEY ARNOLD!**

**See you on Sunday**

**P. 07/03/2015.**


	20. Tequila!

**Rocket to the Moon**

**Chapter Twenty**

**Tequila!**

* * *

. . .

Arnold nodded. "It is only a delusion." He said to himself.

They remained in silence for some time. Each one lost in their own contemplations. Every now and then Arnold could hear Helga's voice rising for a moment but then she went back to mumbles. He raised his questioning eyes to Rhonda.

"That's another one with huge plights." She stated.

Arnold grumbled. He could only imagine. Even when people wouldn't peg her for a gold-digger, it didn't mean Helga had it easy, right? Being the girlfriend of an old man…

"Arnold…" Rhonda added after a pause. She'd been looking to the floor but then raised her sight to look at him in the eye "Look, you know I like you. You're my friend." She exhaled "And as my friend I think I should warn you. Helga…" she looked to the door behind him "she's unavailable. I think it's matter of time that they make it public."

Arnold nodded. He leaned heavily in his seat. After giving him a pat on his knee Rhonda got up and walked to the kitchen leaving him alone. He closed his eyes getting conscious of the heavy weight that fell in his stomach. So there it was. Helga had a relationship. He let the reality sink in.

After a moment where his mind went blank, he exhaled. Why the shock? He'd already overheard Rhonda; and he had already supposed that being Helga an adult she must have a relationship. Maybe the thing was that he didn't want to admit it. The fact that her love interest was an old man made him think it couldn't be real.

So what now?

What was the point in wondering what was Helga doing with a rich old man? About what she saw in him? What she got from him? Why someone like Henry deserved a second opportunity in life? Was it only because he was rich? Did fate give rich people better chances?

He grumbled to himself. He was being such hypocrite. Here he was, experiencing something that could be called a 'heartbreak' when he claimed he loved Claire. When he had Claire in first place! Rhonda was right. It was all a delusion.

He opened his eyes to find Rhonda seated in front of him looking at him with sympathy.

"Why is so hard to… accept?" he asked her in weak voice.

"We like to fantasize. Some people say we make up alternative realities to help us keep going." Rhonda shrugged her shoulders and smirked " Maybe you just lost yours."

He snorted. "I didn't know you were into…" he frowned. What was it? Science fiction, esotericism? He shook his head.

"So…" Rhonda started again "You're doing well, huh? I didn't know you were that good at work!"

He blinked being forced to stop his train of thoughts.

"Well… I'm doing well I guess." he said letting out a long breath.

"That's good." she said slowly. "What's your secret?" she asked again after a while. He really appreciated her efforts. She'd changed subjects without further pry from her part; only for the sake of enjoying the evening. He decided to stop overreacting and put himself together.

"There's no such a secret." he crossed his arms "I like my job I guess." he chortled, remembering all those thoughts of months ago when he dreamed with the perfect job. He leaned back.

"Well, you sound like a winner to me." Arnold threw her a small smile. "Deb must be happy having you around."

"Do you know Deb?" She nodded.

"Yeah, she's a good friend. Every once in a while she comes to our little gatherings. It's good to have a lawyer amongst your acquaintances." Rhonda grinned "Well, now I have two." She added, wriggling the V sign. "And other than the money, how are you doing over there? It's a nice place? Have some friends already? Foes … Nah! You're too nice to have foes."

Arnold smirked. Well, - he exhaled - he had some good friends already. There was another bunch of coworkers and lunch buddies whose company he enjoyed.

"All in all, it's a nice place." he uttered.

"All in all?" she smiled.

"You know how it is," he couldn't help but grumble "There are some people…" he trailed off.

"I know what you mean. Bullies. No place is safe from them." She shook her head "They bother you?"

"Not me precisely, but there is this bunch who is always bothering people just because the kick of it."

Rhonda nodded her head. "Yeah." she exhaled "But you know? I've come to the understanding that our world is far from perfect and we have to learn to deal with the all the unpleasant that's out there."

"Maybe you're right" Arnold started, looking at a vague point in the next room "But I just can't get how is that there are some people who have everything; who have been privileged since the day they were born, and still, the best they can do is going to make others people's life a living hell," Rhonda observed him in silence "They even seem to enjoy they are feared…"

The girl snorted "You're talking about Dick, right?"

"Do you know Dick?" he frowned; turning to see her but he read the answer on her face.

What a question! He rolled his eyes inwardly. Of course she knew him. She knew the entire family.

Rhonda nodded "You might be wrong about Dick, you know?" She added cautiously.

"In what way?"

"In one at least…"

"Which one would that be?" he didn't like this unexpected secrecy.

"Not about him being a jerk, of course," she let out a soft laugh, showering relief over the unexpectedly serious situation. She got comfortable in the couch as she used to do when she was about to tell something juicy. "But Dick is… _deep_." Surprisingly she stood up and walked towards the door where Helga had disappeared. She put an ear against it, and then turned to him "I guess we still have time. But let's go to the kitchen. I think I need another drink."

Arnold stood and fell behind.

"So?" Arnold asked once she poured the red concoction in a new glass. He waited until she sipped her drink and let out a long exhalation.

"So Dick, huh?" after the pause she seemed insecure about how to start, and Arnold expected she haven't changed her mind. He wondered what she was going to say. Something new for real? Because in his experience it was much what people talked about Dick but little that was actually new. "Let's just say that Dick is…" she trailed off.

"'Special'?" Arnold snorted. When Rhonda gave him an admonishing look and he smiled and shook his head. "Sorry… every time someone starts to talk about Dick they say he's 'special'" he made quotation marks in the air.

Rhonda seemed to hesitate again but she went finally on.

"Dick wasn't born with a silver spoon in his mouth. In fact, his beginnings couldn't be more different, Arnold." Rhonda cleared her throat as she leaned in the counter and seemed to put in order her thoughts. Arnold blinked with skepticism. So far he knew the Muellers had over a century being wealthy. "I know what you're thinking." she interrupted his thoughts "But he was born from the wrong Mueller. His father knocked up one of the girls from the store and then deserted her when she gave him the news. He didn't only leave her but also made her life miserable. You know how it is. He talked shit about her; called her a whore; claimed it wasn't his child. A real gentleman…

"To the day the rumor reached the family the girl had disappeared from town, something Frederick used to prove them he was innocent and the girl was only trying to set him up. To their father it was one less problem. Truth was that Frederick was no good. He didn't help them at work; never went to college; slept around all the time; drank a lot, and by the way he ended up his life, apparently he was also into drugs.

Rhonda walked to the door and took another look to the living room.

"So, Dick ended being raised in narrow circumstances at a small town in the middle of nowhere by a not too-smart or ambitious mother. It was guessed that Darleen -that's her name, a chirpy woman now, owner of the biggest house miles around of 'Nowhere', North Dakota – kept correspondence with Frederick. Probably she never got over him. An increasingly lost Frederick went to pay visits every now and then. Naïve Darleen probably thought he still loved her," Rhonda snorted "… but we all know the guy went only to screw her and abuse the kid, all at once." She clicked her tongue "I don't get in my mind how woman let their children being hurt only for crumbs. So far I know Frederick was indeed cruel. He… he…" she trailed off and blinked horrified "I don't know how someone could be so evil to his own child." She finally exhaled.

Arnold observed her as she took a long sip of her drink and her eyes remained wide open. What was it that she didn't dare to speak? How terrible could it be? It was hard to imagine she was talking about Dick; the omnipotent guy he saw every single day at the office. Arnold observed Rhonda refilling her glass. How many margaritas had she had this evening? Five or so? She didn't sound tipsy but he didn't sound tipsy either and had had about … he looked at the empty bottles… eight… beers or so. That's why she was being so open? At least the blabber wasn't only him .

"Well, I guess I have to talk about that good-for-nothing Frederick a little longer." She said as they walked back to the living room "Well, long story short the family got tired and didn't care about him anymore. He came from time to time to steal money, or ask money from her mother. You know how mothers are. She gave him the money after getting from him the promise he'd look for help. He never worried to comply, of course.

"After the father died he came back only to try to sell his part to Henry. So far I know Henry bought a part but refused to buy the whole lot; thinking he'll need them for his future. It kept happening for years; he coming back to get money, even after the mother died. Henry continuous negative to buy the rest of his part only took Frederick to sell everything to his partner and rival, Glen Brennan." Rhonda raised his head to see him nodding in understanding. "Finally, there was a last time that Frederick came back looking for help. He was a disaster; his health was really compromised. Being that there was nothing else to sell, -it hadn't been in a while, but Henry helped him nonetheless- Henry accepted to take care of him with a condition: marry Darleen and give his name to the kid."

"Is this for real?" he asked in awe. Rhonda nodded.

"To the last word." She sighed "Darleen had finally her dreams come true, even if they were to take care of a dying man." She grimaced. "They played the little house for a while, though I seriously doubt Dick was around."

"How old was he?"

Rhonda shrugged her shoulders "A teenager?"

Arnold nodded. He leaned back on the sofa. When Rhonda started to talk he never thought the story she was about to tell would end up being like this. He'd never guessed something like this about Dick. It was almost a tragedy. Had it a happy ending'?

"You know? I want to feel sorry for the little kid but then I remember it's Dick and…"

"You can't feel empathy for him." She ended for him.

"It just that it didn't seem to fit." He let out a small chortle. "Have you seen the guy lately?"

Rhonda shrugged again. "I guess people who don't really know him tend to think that way."

"But I _do_ know him."

"Oh, but you don't know the real him." She said dismissively.

"And you do?" he scoffed "Because I work close to him and…"

"I went out with him." She bragged; her intention to have the last word.

"You what?" he asked a couple of seconds later, when the initial surprise had gone.

"I went out with him… long ago. It's not something I say a lot, but…" she shrugged.

"You went out with him?!"

"A couple of times" she nodded casually "It didn't work."

"Bu… but - When - _Why_?" he tittered. He just couldn't get over it. "Sorry," He finally shook his head and asked "Why you said it's something you don't say a lot?"

"Oh," it seemed she didn't expect that question because she hesitated. Throwing him a cautious look she added "Maybe I should make a point to let clear that is not because I think going out with him it's... it's something shameful." She faltered "That's not what I meant because in fact it's quite the opposite. He's a great match. He's handsome, rich, complicated." she raised her brows "He's all what they promise you; the bad guy that can be fixed through love."

"Actually that's precisely the reason why I tried to take it easy with him. Not everyday you got a date with someone like Dick Mueller; he's an heir, after all." Rhonda opened big her eyes. Here she was; Rhonda Lloyd, the girl from Vogue.

Arnold couldn't help but chortle and she frowned.

"Sorry. It's just that I don't buy him being the Prince Charming." He smiled to her "I can't even see you two together; you're way too different."

"Different?" she seemed surprised, but went on nonetheless. "Anyway - and only for the record- we were never actually 'together'". She made quotation marks in the air. "As I told you, I wanted to take things slowly because, as I also said, he's someone you'd envision for a long term relationship. Truth was all my planning was unnecessary. He's kinda old fashioned; he doesn't hurry things; now I know." She rolled her eyes and leaned back in her chair "Well, things didn't work, turned out that he's… _complicated_; too complicated for my taste. But…" she paused "but I got to know him, and my opinion is that the actual Dick fits perfectly his complex old self. I can feel empathy for him, and I actually like him. We remain friends."

Arnold nodded as he observed her getting lost in thoughts. A sudden thought reached his mind. Claire. God! It wouldn't be easy to keep all of this from her. She was crazy about anything that had to do with the Muellers. After a moment or two he shrugged it off. He'd think about it later. Rhonda was getting comfortable, carrying her legs up onto the couch.

"And he told you this all just after a couple of dates?" he asked. Somehow he found hard to believe Dick pulling the 'Poor Me' card only to get laid, something that he wasn't supposedly looking for, after all.

"Arnold!" Rhonda straightened up in her seat and looked suddenly alarmed. "Don't make me regret trusting you!" She warned "It's top-secret! You won't talk about this, ever."

"Right." He waved his hand.

"You don't get it?!" she left her couch hurriedly and stood over him "If Dick ever finds out what I know I'm sure as hell someone is going to pay." She paused "If he ever finds out _you_ _know_ someone is going to die. You don't know him." The sound of a door being unlocked reached them. "Arnold?" she rushed in low voice. The boy nodded.

"Guys- I'm sorry again." Helga came in and passed them by in her way to the kitchen. "I know I've been a shitty host." She grumbled "I'll make up some way, I promise."

"Don't worry, Helgs." Rhonda said aloud. "Arnold and I have had time to catch up all those missing years. He's a doll. It'd been really nice."

"Great." She called back from the kitchen.

"There're some fresh margaritas over there!" Rhonda said, then she turned to Arnold and changed her expression taunting him with the cutthroat gesture. Arnold smiled at the sign, but nodded nevertheless. It was funny to watch a fine looking girl like her threatening him.

"Margaritas? Man, I need a real drink!" Helga was back and grumbled as she took a seat on the carpet in front of them. Arnold blinked. She'd brought from the kitchen a tray with the brand new bottle of tequila, shot glasses, salt and lemon.

"Helga…" he spoke with warning in his voice "You're doing the driving tonight, remember?"

"I know graandmaaa!" she threw him an annoyed look "I'm not getting drunk. Just need some fun."

Rhonda had already taken a seat at her side and started to help Helga with the drinks. _"What was that?"_ she asked the blonde in a mumble "_Jealousy?_"

"Don't ask." she mumbled back as she poured the amber liquid into the glasses. Rhonda didn't speak anymore but threw him a knowing glance. Henry? He was almost sure it was the name that crossed her mind. Who've told of the old _wise _man? Arnold snorted to himself.

Anyway, two rounds of shots later nobody remember a thing about jealousy, abused kids or anything else by the way. Small talks filled the time. They started with Mr. Simmons and ended talking about Rhonda's coworkers. If she wasn't embellishing the tale, her office could easily become a TV sitcom. It must be an interesting workplace; Brenda and Claire would kill to work in there. Arnold laughed. Every now and then he turned to see Helga. She had changed, and even when she followed the conversation and tried to mask her mood, her sight was absent for moments. Months ago she'd said relationships were difficult, he recalled. Only god knew what was happening with hers.

Arnold exhaled and his attention went back to Rhonda when she started to talk about him and his not too perfect relation. Arnold rolled his eyes inwardly but didn't argue. What was the point? It wasn't as if they were going to go to Claire and betray him. Helga jumped immediately and complained.

"No way! Don't say that, Arnold!" she straightened and got on her knees, placing her hands on his own knees "You're by far the nicest kid I know," she said earnestly "If you can't have a nice relationship then what can expect the rest of us!" she turned to Rhonda "We're doomed!"

Arnold shook off his dizziness looking into the blue eyes that looked at him with worry. He couldn't help but extend his hand and touch the soft skin of her cheek.

"That's not true!" he said softly "I'm sure you're doing fine."

He turned to Rhonda who fortunately didn't seem to notice his slip and also looked worried.

"She has a point, you know." She hiccupped "Kinda,"

Arnold didn't have an answer to that. He leaned back in the couch and exhaled. Helga had –of course- left him and was walking to the table. She brought a plate with sandwiches and placed it on his lap. She took a seat at his right. Rhonda also left the carpet and got seated at his left.

"Eat," Helga said. We need to sober up, or well… in any case, I need to sober up," she took a piece of bread and leaned carelessly on his shoulder.

Arnold chortled, turning to see her, or well, the hair that was all what could be seen from his point. He could feel the movement if her jaws against his shoulder as she chewed. He threw his arm around her.

"I think you said you weren't going to get drunk."

"I'm not drunk." She elbowed him forcefully. He complained. "But I need to get perky before getting behind the wheel." She paused "You know you two could crash in here if you want, but I don't know if Honey Booboo Claire would be happy with that." She shifted to look at him at the last part.

He couldn't help but chortle. "No. Honey Booboo Claire wouldn't like that."

"Yeah, I imagined."

Helga went back to her position. Rhonda had taken a sandwich to herself and mumbled something about someone else not being happy either if she crashed in here.

There wasn't much talk after that. Arnold kept throwing glances to the blonde head that rested against his shoulder. She was warm, smelled nice…. He wondered why Henry would be jealous because she wasn't tonight at his side. It was only a night, after all. He wondered what he'd said if he knew her pretty head was resting on his shoulder, probably soaking herself with his scent. He exhaled deeply. At least one thing he got for sure from tonight. Helga wasn't interested in him. And that's that.

.

* * *

**I don't own Hey Arnold!**

**I don't own any TM mentioned here. I own just the plot and the OC.**

**Thanks for reading. Reviews are welcome. A thousand thanks to all those who follow/favorite this and especially to those who review. You keep me going guys!**

**Next chapter will take a couple of weeks. For now I want to wish you a happy July. See you soon.**

**July 5****, ****2015.**


	21. Ice Cream

**Rocket to the Moon**

**Chapter Twenty One**

**Ice Cream**

* * *

**.  
**

She turned up to see him - his eyes - _so close!_

It was something that was bound to happen. She knew it from the first moment; it was just matter of time. She stirred nervously biting her lip. Thinking twice she knew there was no point in deliberating. Her mind was made up, the decision taken and she was going to give.

Taking a long breathe that felt like forever she looked up again. Lost in those pools her mind began to wander.

"… _You know?"_

Those eyes… they were so deep! They looked at her with wonder… a hint of admiration… expectation… his lower lip settled between hers… in the most delicate of the touches…

Anticipation...

"… _I've been thinking…"_

_Bashfulness._

She could feel the tip of his wet tongue, his coy smile…. She closed her eyes. His breath, his want, his body pressed against hers. She smiled too. There was no sin in a simple kiss, right? She pulled him close and moaned…

"… _We should stop seeing other people…" _

Shit!

* * *

.

"Hey, you two, behave!" Rhonda let out a semi drunken giggle "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

With that warning, she slammed the door shut and ran to her building's entrance. Arnold, always the gentleman, left the car too and ran behind her. Helga scoffed from behind the wheel.

"_TYPICAL!"_ she puffed aloud.

Rhonda looked at him with a questioning look as she dealt with the door. Arnold shrugged. He couldn't hear the rest of the blonde speech; could only see her dramatic complaining. He turned back to Rhonda. Promising they keep in contact they bided farewells. Arnold went back to the passenger seat. Helga had a curious smile on her face.

"Why 'typical?'" he asked. She shook her head dismissively and after making sure Rhonda was inside the building she pulled from the curb. He snorted. They have been joking enthusiastically since the moment they hopped in the car, although he knew they'd lost Helga for shorts periods of time. "Why bother in complain if you aren't you going to tell in the end?"

"If I must…" she grumbled, rolling her eyes. Arnold wondered if she was upset again. She reached the corner and turned north "I remember when we were kids," she started, her attention focused on the road "You know, a particular day when I paid attention. You were being the gentleman to everybody… _but_ me."

"That cannot be true…" Arnold let out a hesitating smile. "I'm sure I always tried to help to whomever…"

"I knew it…" She mumbled to herself, smiling with resignation. "Forget I said it. I knew it was going to be a waste of time."

"No, please, do tell me… if I failed to realize you needed my help I'd like to know…"

Helga kept the skeptic smile on her face. "For real?" he nodded "Alright," she inhaled "I think I can recollect you helping Stinky by keeping the door open for him, and then letting go when me and my tray were coming over. As you can imagine, my lunch ended all over my clothes but you were oblivious, of course. Then I also remember you protecting Rhonda… or someone else… from the rain…" she exhaled tiredly "Anyway, you rushing after Rhonda tonight making sure she made it safely to her door -while leaving my door wide open - brought it back to my mind."

"I'm sorry." Arnold didn't remember a thing but he decided against start a discussion; not with Helga's mood seemingly getting back to distress anyway. "I guess I didn't realize."

"Yeah, I guess." She snorted "You're not the only one, you know?" she added after a short silence "I've realized men don't use to feel the need to protect me. I don't know why."

"What do you mean?" he frowned.

Helga turned to see him, piqued.

"Exactly what I'm saying." She groused "Men don't get all protective of me. I guess they think I'm a strong woman who can handle whatever is coming my way."

"Um…"

"There's no problem. I actually _can_ handle myself very well, thank you very much." Then she slowed her speech "But, you know, sometimes it's nice to feel that someone cares."

"I… "Arnold didn't know what to say "I'm sorry."

Helga waved her hand dismissively.

"Bah! It's not your fault, is it? You're not around anymore." She smirked and went on "And I don't know why I complain. It's not like I really care. I mean, I'm not a weak girl; I don't need protection. Besides, I have Henry." She grinned "And Luke… I can always trust Luke is a gentleman through and through."

Arnold remained silent for a while not knowing what to say. She seemed as if she were talking to somebody else, a girl, not him. And he couldn't help but notice that the mention of those names made his guts twist.

"I… I thought Rhonda neighborhood was safe." He finally said, dumbly.

Helga turned to see him with a frown.

"This is New York, Arnold. No place is safe if you're not careful" she said matter of factly. "For instance, this is not a neighborhood where I'd leave my car parked at."

"No?"

She shook her head.

"Talking about parking spaces there are just a few places where you can do that. If you _must_, then you should choose better Chelsea… or The Village, by NYU."

"You seem to know a lot of NY."

"You learn over time. And people teach you," she shrugged. "Rhonda did... a lot."

He nodded.

"So, I'm gonna take Fifth unless you have a better option." She said, pointing several blocks ahead after she did another right turn.

"Your car, your decision."

She nodded but then seemed to change her mind.

"You know what? Let's gonna leave it to Google." She stopped at a red light and asked his address. As she typed it on the touch screen he looked around the luxurious car. Knowing who her father was he'd already supposed Helga had to had a big car; it just wouldn't make sense being otherwise.

But oddly enough, it wasn't that big but it was surely heavy. A Range Rover none the less. Evoque was the name. A pristine white, kind-of muscle car, with black interiors and panoramic roof. The screen showed temperature, its position in the street, the distance between cars and other bunch of amenities that surely did your travel more pleasurable.

"That's it." She spoke as the light turned green again "All through Fifth Avenue and will be there in 22 minutes. It's a 6.5 miles distance according to this. Did you have idea it was this far?"

He nodded his head "Coming all this way down in a daily basis I've learned it was far far away." He ironized.

"Yeah, I can imagine." She chortled.

A minute or two passed until she stopped suddenly.

"Oh, my God!" she spoke excitedly "It's here!"

He looked around guardedly. "What is here?"

"Jimbo's" she said excitedly as she turned the gear selector to R "The best ice cream in town! It's right here and I can't believe they're open!"

"Helga… wait-" he warned as she reversed about sixty feet and got parked easily without even turning to see all those cameras assisting her.

"What?" she looked at him as turned off the engine "Don't you want some ice cream?"

"It's two and a half in the morning."

"So what?! We're already here and it'd just take a few minutes. Come on Arnold! I've been dying to come down here for months but never have time." She pouted.

"Helga… you said nowhere is safe."

"The Village it's not anywhere," she scoffed, getting out of the car "And you said I could count on you anytime, didn't you? Besides, this is one of the few spots I was telling you where you can actually park your car." Arnold chuckled "This and next street are the safest places around."

Arnold followed her half-heartedly. He was sure she was lying only to get her own way. In any case, he took a breath resignedly at the sight of Helga walking ahead enthusiastically. They entered into a small and colorful shop that made him blink. He turned around. The parlor was full of life; it didn't even look like it was an early hour in the morning. Arnold blinked again. There were at least twenty persons in the place, kids included. Helga was already placing her order. His blonde companion made suggestions and he nodded, still speechless. A couple of minutes later they were leaving the place with a cone in their hand each.

"Let's take a walk."

"A walk?" he asked bewildered "Aren't we going to get a seat?"

"It's too shiny. Let's go to a darker place."

"Helga… it's almost three in the morning!"

She grumbled and started up the sidewalk "Come on Arnold! Don't be a baby!"

Arnold began to walk behind her reluctantly. But as far he knew Helga he knew she wasn't thoughtless, so he conceded her the benefit of doubt.

"Where to?" he asked when they reached the corner. He turned around, still insecure about this whole improbable adventure.

"Let's just walk around the block." She said and turned right. He followed suit. They advanced practically in silence and didn't talk much other than her asking him what did he thought about the sweet treat. Arnold nodded. Truth was that his vanilla ice cream was surprisingly delicious. She'd chosen chocolate and they both enjoyed them as they kept walking down the street.

Helga repeated something about the safety of this place as they observed a patrol car go by. The officers nodded a greeting. Arnold had to admit that the place was classy. The few people they came across looked like regular people; just like him and Helga themselves; couples, friends, young people…

But he also realized that no matter what Helga said, she was keeping her guard up. She kept looking everywhere and everything that seemed to move; and kept throwing glances up and down the street discreetly as a safety measure. When they reached the corner she looked all the sides before going on.

Arnold couldn't help but being watchful too, but he had to admit that this had been a nice walking. They had completed a lap, and he was making a halt in front of the car when Helga laughed slapping gently his shoulder.

"Don't be lazy." She pointed ahead. "It's a two laps tour. We need to burn out all the dinner." And with that she kept going.

Arnold grumbled. It was not tiredness but precaution what made him to stop in the first place, but didn't have the heart to tell her so. She was ahead, walking with a spring in her step. At least one thing was for sure; Helga seemed more relaxed.

He'd decided he won't think about all what had happened earlier; about what Rhonda told, about the phone call she received and about her relationship with Henry. She was his friend and he was going to be there for her as he'd offered. Period.

Still, he couldn't help but see that her romance had problems. They might be rich and they might look perfect for each other, but despite everything Helga didn't seem that happy. She wasn't as cheerful as the day he saw her for first time. Henry looked like the perfect gentleman but he was sure he has his issues like every other man. And he knew Helga wasn't a lightweight and being fair he must admit that he also wondered if it was her who caused the problems.

He grunted. Here he was. Don't wanting to think about it but thinking about it nonetheless. Such a basket case.

* * *

. . .

"So what do you think?" she asked as soon as he reached her.

"Hu huh?" he blinked, turning to see her and once again, rendering speechless because of her beauty.

"I'm talking about the ice cream. Gawd! You never stopped being a dreamer, did you?"

"Never," Arnold snorted, shaking his head to get rid of indecorous thoughts "It was good."

"Only good?" she raised a perfect shaped brow and pouted her lips. _Give me a break!_ He wanted to shout to his dirty mannish mind. He couldn't help but got drifted by his current thoughts and feel a little playful. He kinda wanted to cause a reaction.

"Yeah," he pretended not being impressed "It wasn't bad, but nothing to do with Slausens."

He looked up at her but she had lowered her sight. It seemed that bringing up Slausens made her hesitate despite it was obvious she was getting ready for the upcoming assault.

"Um… you know that I said exactly the same thing my first time around?" she snorted "but now I think otherwise."

"How so?" he asked "Do you like Jimbo's better?"

"I remember Slausens was delicious." she nodded "But this one is definitively superior."

"You really think so?" somewhat his playful slash belligerent mood was also left behind.

She nodded. "And you know that the last time I was at Slausens I realized it wasn't as good as I remembered." Arnold hummed "I think we get carried on because it tastes like nostalgia, but that's all." She shrugged her shoulders.

Arnold mulled it over.

"Maybe you're right…" he finally said. He had to give her credit though. Jimbo's was definitively superior. And he knew very well nostalgia had the peculiarity of enhance anything with its halo of longing, gloom and melancholy; the unbearable wish of possessing something that is no longer yours. He let out a long sigh. "Or maybe it's just that they changed the recipe…" he chortled.

"Or the chef," she added, laughing too. "But admit it, Arnold. When we were kids we were undemanding customers. Everything impressed us. We bought anything that they put under our noses."

There she was. Not touched a bit by nostalgia at all. Arnold raised his brows. First she was messing with his beloved hometown and now with his favorite ice cream parlor. He scoffed.

"I have to admit that you have a gift to transform warm childhood memories into hard cold facts."

She scoffed.

"Don't be a romantic, Arnold." She laughed derisively making him recall that old Helga. Talk about nostalgia. "It's called 'objectivity'"

"Or 'Impartiality'" he corrected "'Detachment'…. I know it's the financier talking."

She shrugged, walking ahead with a renewed energy.

"I can't hide what I am." She chuckled.

"What you have become…" he mumbled to himself.

"Anyway," she gave a turn in her walk to give him a roll of her eyes "I still can go back to my old self whenever I want, you know?" she wriggled her brows "Just see…" then cleared her throat and spoke with a altered intone _"Warm wind that melt my treat- do you think you can take me to him? – Take me up with your wild bursts – and make me reach his - _windowsill_…"_ she vacillated at the last word and turned to him with a smirk on her face "Is it window sill or window ledge?" she asked.

"Window ledge I think …" he uttered.

"Yeah, I thought so, but ledge doesn't get the… sense?"

"You know you just took out all the romanticism with your question?"

"Sorry about that. God! What was I thinking? Warm wind?" she scoffed sarcastically, looking around at the chilly night "I should stop contaminating the air with my verses." Her hands shook the air around her. "Dumb and corny; it'd get me an F if so. I think I'm getting rusty."

He exhaled. He kinda liked it anyway.

"As long as you don't get rusty with numbers…" he ended saying. She frowned looking at him with confusion "You said the other day that you only made poetry with numbers." He recalled.

"Oh, that." She nodded. "I'm dead if I get rusty with numbers." She mumbled in low voice.

Arnold nodded. That was something he'd heard a lot in the office. When it came to numbers Helga was gifted. She was like an unstoppable warrior of the business field. She was a go-getter. According to Greg, she was like Midas and his golden touch; taking Mueller to a new level.

"Where were we?" she asked suddenly, looking ahead.

"Um… I think we were talking about ice cream and nostalgia" he said.

"Right," she nodded "And you were saying you think Jimbo's wasn't anything better than Slausens."

He let out a soft laugh realizing he had actually insulted her.

"On second thoughts I think you're right, you know? Jimbo's is way better than Slausens. It was actually nostalgia talking." He admitted.

"I knew it!" she clicked her tongue, turning to see him. He shrugged his shoulders in an apologetic gesture. After a pause she went on. "But actually you shouldn't feel bad about that. You're not the only one. It happens to everybody. Our whole pasts, from old failed romances, households, homesickness, every childhood memories… our minds outsmart us; alter our perception, our remembrances. They change it all creating a dreamscape."

He made a pause.

"Maybe you're right. But looking on the bright side, at least we have something to yearn for, don't you think?"

"Well, that's true, but only until we discover the awful trick our minds are playing on us."

"Then we have to enjoy them as long as they last." He smiled brightly.

"Always the optimist!" she snorted and shook her head. The wind played with a few loose strands of hair. She reached back and freed it from the improvised bun. He smiled at the vision of this nightly siren. "You know, my nephews…" she sneered "their local ice cream parlor is a Dairy Queen." She let out a laugh "Poor kids! They're never going to have something to yearn over when they are older."

Arnold crumpled his lips.

"Mmm…" he mused "At least they are gonna have their favorite dessert anywhere across the world."

"As I said before, always the optimist!" she pointed at him with both hands. He shrugged.

Before longer he spoke again.

"How's Olga doing by the way? You say she have two children?"

"Uh huh" she nodded "Two boys"

"Great…. How old are they?"

She frowned and then turned to see him with amused eyes.

"Nine… and seven, I guess."

"And your relationship with her…" he bit inside his lip feeling suddenly inappropriate "… I mean, I don't want to pry, but I remember you two having a complicated…"

"It's okay Arnold." She said letting out a gentle smile "I know I wasn't precisely shy to hide that I found her obnoxious when we were younger. I should've been more discreet for the sake of family harmony, but I guess…" she made a pause to put in order her thoughts "I know I had issues back then; I was full of anger. I remember how I couldn't stand her and all her perfection; the way my parents adored her… in one word: I hated the girl." She exhaled "Her presence made me see my own imperfection and I guess all those fears brought the worst of me out to the surface."

"Wow Helga!" he exclaimed "It's a very mature way to see things."

She snorted.

"I can talk about it now, but for a long while it was hell." She laughed softly "It required a lot of time and energy to reach this understanding, you know? To make my mind to see everything with fresh new eyes."

"Did you see… a therapist?" he asked feeling invited by her openness.

"Yeah," she nodded "Dr. Bliss, the poor thing, tried to make me understand it all along grade school, but I guess I wasn't ready back then. Here in NY we met a shrink… a thanatology specialist who's helped me a lot."

"A thanatologist? Really?" she nodded somewhat proudly.

"She's Henry's shrink too. Actually she's the one who helped him and…" she paused and bit her lower lip. Then she breathed deeply "Anyway, she taught me to see the… let's say… the big picture. To gettiing to know myself. It's a long and painful process, and I've learned that is something that we never stop doing, since life situations change continually." She exhaled "I should see her one of these days, but you know how it is. We're always busy."

Arnold nodded. He listened to everything she said about insight; but he'd also realized Helga evaded talking about Mrs. Mueller. It was an uncomfortable topic for him too so decided to leave it aside. She was being so open, as never before, and he was willing to listen with his full attention to whatever she wanted to tell .

"But you know?" she went on "I owe a lot to Dr. Wong but it had been Olga's job too. I mean, in due course I realized Olga was far from perfect, she has her own demons, but it wasn't as if I wanted to go all the way back to California to tell her in her face that our problems were also her fault, right? for monopolizing our parents attention and..." she made a pause to breathe deeply before going on "but right then she realized by her own, you know, in the least- expected- and sad- way…"

"Why? What happened?" he asked, curious.

"The story repeated itself… at home,"

"Really?" she nodded "How so?"

"Well, I'm going to tell you the story of two sweet boys, Arnold. Nathan and Ethan Walsh," she smiled a slanted smile and rolled the eyes at the mention of the names "Nathan, the older, is the image of the perfect little gentleman. He's smart, nice, polite, and obedient. The kind of kid that every mother dreams about." She raised her brows in mock surprise "Ethan, on the other hand, can only be defined as a grumpy old man in miniature."

"The kind of kid the mother is always complaining about?" she shrugged her shoulders in an ill-fated fashion "Talk about irony."

"Tell me about it!" she grimaced. "Poor Olga, now she's living first-hand what we lived back at home. I know it's hard for her. Fortunately for her kids, she's a better mother than Miriam ever was; she's more prepared and is completely dedicated to her family."

"That's nice to hear," he said. She nodded "Do they talk about the past? About how the family seemed to be 'predestined' to live the same situation over and over?"

She smirked. "Well, Ethan likes to say that he'd be the one who will bring richness to the family" she winked at him and clicked her tongue "as Aunt Helga does, but we all know that the thing is not that romantic." She paused "I think it's a good thing that we all know that is not the same situation."

"Their father is…?"

"Nothing like Bob… impatient and blowhard I mean." She shook her head leisurely "But like Bob, he's a workaholic and…" she paused "Olga don't have it that easy."

Arnold nodded and decided to change the subject since it was private waters.

"Your dad…?" he stopped suddenly not knowing how to formulate the next question. He turned up to see her looking at him with an indecipherable Mona Lisa smile. His stomach lurched.

"My dad…?" it didn't help that it seemed that she was having fun at his expense. He started again.

"You two made peace before…" he paused again. He didn't know why he continued treading in murky waters but couldn't help it. For some reason he knew Helga wasn't going to lose her patience, no with him anyway, not tonight. It was something furtive, not more than a subtle feeling, a sensation; but he knew there was a bond between them; a bond that had survived even after all those years; something that could not be easily removed.

"He died?" he nodded and she exhaled. "You can say so." He saw her trying to swallow a lump.

He sighed long.

"It's okay if you don't want to talk."

"I know," she said in low voice and then he waited until she seemed ready to go on "But… oddly enough, you're one of the few persons I see these days that could actually understand because you got to know him." She smiled sadly "Well, other than Henry of course, but Henry's point of view has nothing to do with yours. He was not my 'little friend'."

Arnold remembered Henry calling him like that previously. He smirked. The same day he found them at her office sitting very close together. He shook the image from his mind. He better wondered how old would be Bob now? Older than Mr. Mueller? He couldn't be. Bob would be seventy or so, if his memory serves him right. He exhaled by his mouth realizing Bob was relatively young when he passed away ten years ago. Reaching the thirties taught people to see things in perspective.

"Anyway," Helga's voice brought him back from his thoughts. "We had time to talk." She smiled softly "It was kind of difficult because the doctor asked us to avoid do anything that would wear him down, but you knew Bob, he wasn't one to listen to doctors." Helga paused as they kept walking what was probably the fourth lap around the block. "Maybe he already knew every second was precious…" she paused again.

"It's ironic, isn't it?" he asked imitating her soft unhurried speech "The way we waste our time every day as if nothing, and when it really counts there's nothing we can do to stretch it out."

"How true." She nodded, looking at the sky. Arnold followed her sight. It was a cloudy night with no stars; although no-stars were the norm in here. .

"I guess your father asked you to take his place."

"Yeah, he did." She adjusted her leather jacket around her body. Her voice was weak when she finally went on. "But what I remember most it's him saying that he loved me, he was proud of me and he knew I was going to do great."

"He did?" Arnold asked with a lump in his throat as response to her emotive speech. A single tear left her eyes and he felt the impulse of taking her in his arms and hold tight. But he held himself in the end because she didn't stop her march to wait for him to make up his mind and console her; not that she expected him. She kept going stoically.

She nodded. "He also apologized… and confessed it wasn't easy for him to show me all his love…"

'_Because you were tough and moody just like he was?'_ he was about to ask but fortunately he didn't. It'd be awkward.

"… Because he didn't want to cause more hurt." She threw him a cautious look "That he expected I eventually understand... and forgive him."

"And you did?" he asked, looking at her looking at the floor.

She shrugged. "I've worked a lot on that." She bit her lip "But I guess I finally got to understand him."

"Did you forgive him too?"

"Arnold…" she smiled sadly "Do you think I'd be able to take care of everything if I didn't? I loved him. I would never let go unforgiven."

Arnold remained in silence as she seemed to get lost in her thoughts. After a minute or two he decided to start talking about the lame last Halloween party he'd attended to lighten the mood. The city was decorated in orange and black made him remember. She apologized. Halloween partying was something she didn't do lately and he understood. He guessed it wasn't funny anymore to a senior executive of her rank.

After that they kept talking about festivities. They remembered those old times all along grade school when they anticipated especially Halloween dances. Then there were Thanksgiving and Christmas season looming over.

"I think I'll be here then, but I still don't have plans for Christmas." He said, answering her question "Claire and I hadn't talked about that. What about you?"

He turned around realizing they were starting the fifth lap. This part of the city was still active, but not that much anymore. They both continued walking keeping the guard up.

"I think I'm gonna stay in the city for Thanksgiving but we're going to California for Christmas." She replied.

"We?" he asked, expecting don't look too insistent. She didn't seem to mind.

"Miriam, Henry and I. Oh, the irony!" She snorted. "Do you still own the old Boarding House?" she changed the subject.

"Yep" Arnold nodded "Always" he assured "Mr. Huynh -do you remember him? - is in charge. He'd got help, of course."

"Of course." She nodded "Do you get any earning from that?"

He snorted "Not really…. I kind of see the lot as my family."

"I know," she threw him a warm look and gently patted his shoulder. He smiled. It was all what he needed. It was nice not receiving a pitiful look for a change. With Helga he knew he didn't need to explain why he had no parents, why he was all alone in the world.

They kept walking in silence but Arnold didn't mind. It was a confortable silence and he appreciated it. She looked comfortable too, at ease. They went side by side. Arnold looked ahead and exhaled. He knew that once turning down the corner there was a sort of vacant lot that reached both streets. It had a chain like fence whose gates weren't locked. Every time they passed it over Arnold got anxious and looked intently around the place, looking for danger in the form of thugs or muggers, but to tell the truth the spot was well maintained as a small park and it didn't look dangerous at all, just like the rest of the area.

Nevertheless he was dreading to reach the spot.

"I think it's time to go." He was checking the area when she spoke.

"Yeah." He agreed. Much as he was enjoying the company it was really late.

"Uh oh,"

At the sound of Helga's voice a cold shiver ran all along his spine. He knew it! Luck said it was over. He looked ahead and saw a loud group of guys coming their way; they were around five; they hadn't seen them yet. He turned to the floor looking intently for something that would help them when Helga took him from the jacket and pushed him against a door, shielding him with her own body.

"Helga..?"

"Weapon? Tell me you have some kind of weapon!" she muttered against the hollow of his neck. He shook his head. He was getting frantic. _Who did she think he was?_ "Keys?" she asked again. He opened his eyes and dug his hand into his pocket. "Alright, play along and get them ready." Helga threw her arms around his neck and got closer, pretending to be a couple making out, but her sight was fixed up the street. Arnold felt ridiculous. He should be the one watching over, not her. For what felt like interminable seconds he was able to see only the part of her face that was illuminated by the lamppost as the group was closer by the second. Her hands become fists behind his neck and Arnold got prepared.

Before they realized the group was passing them by and kept talking and laughing without giving them a second glance. They didn't look like muggers at all, but something more like hardcore gamers. Helga's sight remained glued to them anyway; and it wasn't until they went across the street that she let go and gave a step back.

"No way!"

"What the f…!"

It all happened in a second. Before she could react he had changed positions and it was her who was now against the wall. He was relieved but at the same time furious because he should be the one taking care of her; no the other way around. Humiliated, angry, cold... The absence of warmth was definitely a factor.

"Don't do that again, you listen?" Helga seemed surprised by his sudden action but he didn't care "You listen?" he insisted, pushing harder.

"What's wrong with you?!" she said with difficulty and kept pushing trying to get free but he didn't give.

"That - _thing_ that you did," he almost shouted "Never again, alright?"

Helga opened her eyes with disbelief, and then began to talk without stopping fighting.

"I can't believe you!" she puffed "Something had to be done! There was no time for plans or discussions. Now let go, Mr. Macho!"

He rested his head against hers and exhaled, allowing relief cover him.

"I was scared to death." He blurted out "I was afraid of losing you… again."

She froze. He opened his eyes and looked down at her. Her eyes – _so close!_

He knew it was bound to happen; something inside him told him so. His heart beat wildly in his chest. And she also knew; he could tell by the way she stirred nervously and bitted her lip; by the way her eyelashes fluttered. What was the point in denying it? In thinking this over? He'd been dying for having her in his arms like this since that beautiful dance in early spring all those months ago.

He'd stopped breathing, he didn't know when or why, but when her eyes met his again the world stop spinning. Lost in those pools he just couldn't get enough.

She was so beautiful. Images of the Ball, of the girl in pink danced in his mind; of her wearing that spectacular white dress while walking by the office; or that anything but boring oxford grey outfit that hugged nicely her hips when in India…. Her eyes; they seemed to be looking something, somewhere beyond him.

Her upper lip settled between his… a fluttering touch…. He couldn't take it anymore; anticipation was killing him. He attracted her towards him. His tongue caressed her lip. He smiled. He closed his eyes and focused on the breath on his face, in her silence; her warm body pressed against him. She smiled too. Moaning, she threw her arms around his neck, and attracted him. He leaned in and let go…

"_Shit!" _She cursed.

His eyes shot open. She was pulling back but their lips remained together a second longer. She groaned before opening her eyes. She looked at him with a mixture of apology and disappointment.

"This is not right," She mumbled, lowering her head "Not right. We shouldn't be doing this. We both have… people we care about…"

Arnold exhaled loudly in sorrow. He nodded his head and hid his face in the hollow of her neck. Her smell made his knees go weak. She was right, but he couldn't help but feel like he wanted to hit something. Preferably her, up against the wall… He grunted again, frustrated. Shaking his head he raised his head looking for her eyes.

"He makes you happy?" his sudden question startled her; not him. He'd learned to love his newly found impulsiveness.

"Arnold…"

"Does he make you happy?" he asked again; right on her lips. "Please, Helga, just tell me…"

"Yes, he makes me happy." She drew back and looked at him in the eye "At this point in my life he's everything I want."

Something inside his mind stopped working. He also drew back. It all felt wrong, incongruous, ridiculous. He had no right to ask anything from her. As she'd said they had other people they cared about. She had a man by her side. A man that was waiting for her probably the same way Claire was waiting for him.

"Sorry about that." He finally said. "I don't know what happened to me. I'm really sorry, Helga. I don't want you think…"

"Shhh," Helga patted his shoulder and started walking "It's okay. It was just a slip; the heat of the moment. It won't happen again. I know."

"No, Helga, look, that's not what I mean…" he hurried to her side.

"I know, Arnold." There was warning in her voice.

"But…"

She put a hand on his chest with authority.

"But nothing." She ordered "I'd had a great time; loved every second of the evening. And this… last, impromptu walk was great, the icing on the cake. An impulse is not going to spoil everything."

Arnold nodded. Sure she knew how to be imposing. He should've remained quiet but he was stubborn as a mule.

"I just…"

"If you're going to apologize then I'm gonna turn around and leave, understand? There's no point in wearing ourselves out over a no-kiss."

"I guess you're right."

"As usual." She said sparingly. "I think it's time to go," they were reaching the vacant lot "Let's take the shortcut."

As she opened the gate he looked into the darker spots for danger. It all looked so calm and quiet. He followed her inside and down the asphalted path, when they were about to round a big tree Helga leaned over and picked up something.

"Look," she said with a big smile showing him a baseball bat. "Am I lucky or what?" she swung the bat in the air.

"Helga, put it back. It's not yours. The owner is gonna miss it."

She snorted, looking at him with incredulity.

"You know, the people I hang around lately would say 'Finders keepers'." she swung the bat again "That they had it coming for being so stupid."

"Maybe they hid them in here on purpose; thinking it was safe."

She shrugged her shoulders in obviousness. "Stuuuu-piiid..."

He tried to take the item from her hands. "Come on, Helga."

"No way!" she puffed out and rolled her eyes "Really Arnold! You're too much! " She grumbled and leaned again "Here!" she threw him a ball "You're the pitcher."

He couldn't help it. He smiled at the mere contact with the ball. It'd been years since he last played ball.

"Why I have to be the pitcher?"

"Because everybody knows you can't hit, what else is new?!" she laughed and walked away. When she was a good distance she turned around and took a batting stance; with her legs spread wider than her shoulders and the knees lightly bent. He smiled at the sight. A lesson well learned is never forgotten.

"This is stupid!" she laughed.

"Ready?"

"Just throw the damn ball" she cried. He looked at her while mimicked stupid pitching positions causing her to bend over with laugher until, he finally threw the ball. Incredibly, and considering how rusty they were, Helga hit the ball. They couldn't believe it. Helga danced around the place as he went to retrieve the ball. They kept going for a while; he pitching the ball as she batted. He was surprised to see he was having fun in a way he hadn't had in a long time, just by playing ball in a vacant lot. Helga was having fun too. She boasted when she hit and cursed when she got a strike. After three strikes he booed and walked to her.

"My turn." He stuck her tongue out at her. She mimicked her former threatening gestures and he scurried away laughing like a kid.

After a few throws Helga made a pause and propped her weight on one leg.

"You suck Football Head! Seriously!"

"Hey! I'm a little rusty! I haven't played in years!"

"Me neither but…" She winced when a neighbor in the opposite building threatened to call the cops on them. "I think that's our cue. Your last ball, alright?"

"Alright," he nodded "Throw your best fastball, Heeel-gaaa!" he said mimicking Harold's old way to call her.

"You better be ready!" he laughed observing as she concentrated. She threw the ball and he swung, hitting the ball on the side. The ball went rolling up in an erratic path and they froze; dreading that it'd hit a window… or something worse.

_"You cheeky little devils!"_ a sudden noise by the gates startled them. Helga complained when the ball hit her in its way down. "_Whippersnappers! HOOLIGANS!"_ Arnold straightened to see. An old man was coming his way brandishing his cane

"Let's get the hell out of here!" Helga threw the ball to the tree and ran away to the gate on the opposite street.

"But Helga, we wake him up. The least we can do is apologizing."

_"You think you can… come over here… and destroy… our precious playground.… You're gonna pay for this!"_

"Your wish Mr. Right." she panted as she fought with the gate "See you on Monday then. Good luck!" She got it open and scurried away as quickly as she could.

He also threw the bat to the tree but stood still waiting for the old guy. He could see now the bald old man dressed in his pajamas pants and a big jacket. He was furious. He was cursing now and throwing pebbles at him.

Maybe Helga was right. He followed her but stopped at the door, looking back again.

"What the hell are you doing?!" she cried when she made it to the car "You want to die?"

Arnold didn't know how he did it, but in matter of seconds he hoped in the car, Helga pulled from the curb and they flew away. When they passed by the gates the angry man threw his cane to the car in movement, hitting the windshield. Arnold cringed, turning to see Helga who was concentrated reaching the corner in less than a second. Once turning down the street they looked at each other in shock; and then in unison they roared with laughter.

* * *

. . .

"This is the strangest day I've had in a long time." He said when was finally able to speak. They had laughed heartedly for a few minutes.

"I know." she breathed out "Poor guy! I hope he doesn't get a heart attack."

"I don't think so." He sighed "But I feel kind of bad, you know? We woke him up."

"Well, yeah I guess. But who leaves his cozy bed in the middle of the night to go confront some _hooligans, _huh?" she scoffed "I think he's a lonely man who just got a hell of a story to tell in the morning."

Arnold leaned his head back in his confortable seat. "Yeah, you're probably right."

"Uh huh." She remained in silence for a while "I hope he didn't get the plates. I mean, I'd hate if I have to deal with NYPD." She grunted.

He frowned for a moment feeling worried but then thought it over "I don't think so," he said calmly "We did not vandalize."

"But we committed crime against public order… God! What were we thinking?!"

"I know." He exhaled "I was having such good time."

Helga turned to see him and smiled brightly when they eyes met.

"Yeah. Me too."

Their eyes kept glued together until she turned back to the road. He hummed slightly. She turned again and her smile still adorned her face.

"You know what?"

"What?" he asked after she made a pause.

"Tonight was great." She let out with a sigh.

"You really think so?"

She nodded

"Yeah…. And I… I think I need to thank you now since it won't be possible do it -you know- once reaching your place," she kept passing green lights quickly "I don't know how to describe it. But it was nice, in such a simply way. Like it had been always there, inside us, but was somewhat forgotten. Like being carefree kids again." Her voice was slow but deep at the same time.

He could not stop looking at her in awe; he couldn't believe it.

"You know I feel exactly the same way?" he snorted softly. "Just I didn't know how to describe it. I'm not a poet." She rolled her eyes bashfully and he'd swear there was blush covering her cheeks. "But images of my childhood had been running in my mind all through the night."

"And look that's been a long night!" she whistled.

~'_I don't want it to end'. ~  
_

"Yes, it has." He smiled. He felt the sudden urge to reach for the hand that rested in her thigh. "I also had a great time." He sighed. He felt sad because the words sounded like a cliché and didn't come anywhere close to describe his real feelings.

"I know what you mean." Her smile told him she understood "It was like … if I was able to be Helga again. Just Helga…. No titles or last names to worry about." She turned to him and directed him the prettiest smile he'd seen in a long time. "Just Helga."

He smiled back.

"It was a pleasure to meet you again, Helga."

.

.

* * *

. . .

**I don't own Hey Arnold!**

**Next chapter is a sense an unforeseen chapter. It will alter the order I've set at the end of chapter nineteen. It's really short and will be here in two days. **

**I also wanted to apologize because it's not possible for me to update more often, I've tried but I can't. Hope to keep your interest so you come every time I got something new. Still, that doesn't mean I wouldn't come unexpectedly soon every once in a while. I have the outline of three next chapters already but I'll take its time to develop. There will be a few surprises for you in there. **

**Well, hope you enjoyed this. See you in a couple of days with a chapter that actually talks about what happened at the beginning of this one, but is told by another PoV.**

**R&amp;R. Thanks for reading. Double thanks to Nep2uune, José Ramiro, Carlin, PresleyRox and a guest for your awesome reviews. Thanks to those who follow /favorite.  
**

**August 7****th****, 2015.**


	22. Spoiled Kiss

**Rocket to the Moon**

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

**Spoiled Kiss**

* * *

. . .

Helga entered her apartment and tossed her keys to the bowl. God, her feet ached! When she passed by the kitchen se let out a long grunt. Even when the guys had helped her doing some cleaning before leaving she knew there still were a few things to do; taking the trash out was one of them. Exhaling loudly, she took the garbage bag out through the service door, and then came back to check that everything was in order before going to bed. No more empty bottles or garbage in here. Good! She hated the smell of the garbage in the morning.

She turned around when a cold gust of wind came through the open window.

"Are you here, honey?"

A meow responded her.

"So you're thinking in spending the night out, huh?" there was a second meow; longer this one. "Alright then, I'll leave the window open for you." Before she turned around Smoking appeared on the sill and mewed again. "Kiss-kiss?" she leaned in so the cat got close; his nose was wet and cold; his fur was cold too. Helga held him tight, but then let go and exhaled. What was the point in scolding him if he loved in there, having the city at his paws. She scratched behind his ears before giving him a last kiss. "See you tomorrow, love." She said. His answer was a soft purr. The cat waited until she left the room before going back to his watching.

* * *

. . .

The blonde girl entered into her bedroom. She left her cell phone on the bedside table and walked to her closet. There, she took her clothes off and put on some lounge pants and a cotton blouse, then walked to the washbasin to get her face washed and her teeth brushed. She observed her face on the mirror as she removed the mascara from her eyelashes and put on her night cream.

"You know?" she said when she was back in her room. Walking to the bed she turned off the bedside lamp. "I think it was a great night; it was nice to see the guys together. I really enjoyed myself. I'm sure Rhonda and Arnold also enjoyed catching up and remembering the old…" she paused as she pressed the home button of her cellphone and saw the long list of unread messages. A feeling of dread rose from her chest to her throat. She left the phone on the table, untouched. Then exhaled long and got in the bed. "But what is the point in telling you if you wouldn't understand." She went on gloomily "Such a shame!" she was too tired to get angry. She pulled the covers until her chin and looked at the ceiling. "God! This is heaven," she hummed to herself. Still looking at the ceiling she breathed in and out several times until she cleared up her mind and felt more at ease. Then she turned to the side, watching as the light of her cellphone began to fade. She sighed long again.

"You know, my sweet boy, that you're such a killjoy?" she snorted softly as the light finally turned off "What would you say if I tell you that you spoiled my kiss?" she laughed "Yeah, you heard right. You ruined my kiss. The kiss I spent all of my childhood and half of my teens yearning for…. The kiss I deserved because _it was long overdue! - For God' sake, life owed me!"_ she almost cried "You know I was willing to kiss Arnold back, but then… - Guess what? – Exactly! It had to be you. You came into the picture to spoil everything! Sheesh!"

Feeling a tad better she raised her sight to the ceiling again and memories of Arnold Shortman filled her mind. He was handsome in his own way; and his arms felt good around her. She smiled. Her old self would be dancing all around the place... but those were old wishes of dead feelings... she sighed. She couldn't help but feel that right at that moment she was strangely upset because of his eyes; they were green, not blue. He wasn't him; her secret lover. She sighed deeply again. Then she wondered briefly what would happen if they'd actually kissed. What would Arnold do next? What would it mean for him? Was he looking for something else? Was it his only intention? She actually thought that it was it. That as same as her, it was an indulgence; the satisfaction of an old wish fulfilled. The intention? To enjoy the moment; something that maybe was meant to be at some point in their lives. A kiss was just a kiss. She wasn't the kind of person who clung to things; she lived intensely the present.

Her present...

She reached for her bedside table and took the photography hidden in the top drawer.

"Idiot," she said to the image that looked at her with hard eyes. "Who do you think I am? Do you think I'm so dumb that I didn't realize Arnold forced it in the first opportunity he had? That I didn't suspect from the beginning that he would be looking for a chance…. Alright… but have you ever thought that maybe I also was? I mean, it was just a kiss… it had nothing to do with you. It was not as if we were having sex…" she grumbled "and speaking about having sex – _Really_! - You don't know me at all, do you? - Do you seriously think I have someone on the side? You must be more idiot than I thought if you can't see that I'm faithful to you since the day we started seeing each other more…. You son of a bitch! I just hope you're aware than when you ask for something is because you have the intention to give it in return too. I know what you said. I only hope you were true…

"Because if you're not, I swear to God…"

She inhaled deeply, and looked into his eyes again, and just like that, his lips curved into a smirk. It was not just a smirk, but _his_ smirk.

* * *

. . . .

She woke up to find his eyes fixed on her.

"Good morning…" he'd said with mock intonation.

"_Morning?!"_ Her mind shouted. She turned to the window and could see it was daylight already. "Damn! Why you didn't wake me up?!" she cried out. She heard his laugh as she jumped from the bed and picked up her underwear in her way to the bathroom.

_This is not happening! This is not happening! _This should not happen! She wasn't supposed to spend the night. Ugly things happened when she slept at his side. Alright, it'd been only once, but the experience had been bad enough to swear to God she never again.

She got cleaned and put the clothes on; then washed her face and combed her hair with the fingers. For a second she was tempted to use his shower but decided against it. It'd be inappropriate and it'd be risky. She shouldn't stay in here any longer; the risk grew by the minute. Just by thinking she'd have to sneak out of the building got her a headache.

She went back to the bedroom and picked up her dress. She put it on knowing she was being observed with interest. Raising her sight she saw him still in bed.

"What is it with you? What are you waiting for?" she demanded as she got the zipper. "I don't believe for a second that you're not even a little bit upset about this."

"Well," he said leisurely "This is my home… and I just realized you look delicious in the morning."

"Idiot!" she grumbled. So it was entirely on her. "Alright…" She straightened after she flattened her clothes. "I better get going."

"I'm not saying anything." There was impatience in his voice and she shook her head "Come on Helga, don't be like that."

The subtle change in his voice made her angry.

"Don't be like that?!" she turned around to see him lying in bed as if nothing "Like what exactly? Excuse me but as far as I remember it is you who uses to be _'like that_'. We have our tacit agreement. Fuck and run. And that's what I'm doing." She walked over to his side of the bed to get her shoes.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked, pulling from her hand in a swift movement that got her seated next to him. She groaned. He let out a smile that made visible the lines around his mouth, then lowered his sight to her lips and exhaled. "You know me. I can't help it." He reached out to brush strand of hair from her face. She exhaled through her mouth; and then reached out to caress his chin. "Don't do that." A warning. He pulled his head back. She got angry again.

"Really? You can't help it? You're sure you just '_can't help it_'?" she got up "That's it."

"Wait!" he took her hand again, stopping her from leaving.

"What now?" she grumbled "I don't want to be late for work."

"I want to talk to you," he smiled awkwardly "but… I don't know how to start…"

"Why don't just try speaking?" she forced herself to control her growing irritation. He already knew of her weakness for those smiles, for what they meant, and used them in his favor.

"It's just that… you know?… I've been thinking…" he took an intake "We should stop seeing other people."

"Huh?" it was all she could articulate. She looked at him in awe; but then, struggling to hide her shock since she had to pretend that his words didn't mean the world to her, she snorted and teased him instead "Why? Are we 'going public'?"

He shrugged his shoulders and his self-conscious smile changed a bit.

"Maybe…" his blue eyes were fixed on hers "Do you want it?"

A poker face was the only answer to that. He was right; it was kind of hard. Their eyes kept glued together. Helga didn't know how long they stayed like that; looking into each other. They both were trained to let go nothing; to show nothing; to feel nothing. Heck! She was sure that even their hearts and lungs would restrain their beats and breaths if they needed to.

But there was not use for them to communicate other way because when they reached that point and she looked into his eyes like this she'd swear she knew everything about him. There was nothing that remained hidden. In moments like this he exposed everything of him, his vulnerability included, and it was such a precious gift that she knew he shared with no one. It was her privilege only.

Finally she released the air of her lungs and her eyes descended to the tip of his nose, to his lips. She leaned forward to give him a peck.

"I got to go."

"Helga…" he stopped her from leaving again "It's okay if you're not ready. I'm not ready myself… but we are together." She swallowed hard. It was the first time it was said aloud. "You know it, I know it… and everybody else is going to know it…"

"… eventually…" she said without thinking; finishing for him.

"Soon." He nodded "But for now this is a start, don't you think?" she let out a hesitant nod "Is it alright?" She felt suddenly dazed. She nodded again and turned to leave. "Hey," he pulled again. Before she could react she was lying on the sheets and he was leaning all over her "Are you alright?"

"Why in the hell…?" she shook her head and closed her eyes. There was no point in complaining. It seemed that he was not aware of his strenght and she didn't want to give out she found it excessive. She wasn't a weak flower who complained at everything. And he never listened anyway. He'd started kissing her without hurry, with a leisureliness that broke the tension that had been building inside her, and melted away all her fears and vacillations.

"Better now?" she didn't answer. His soft, placid kisses would be the death of her. She had no will; burning, her body reacted on its own "¿Not yet?" his low and sexy laugh feathered over her ear. She opened her eyes to look at him. He was smiling and his smile was infectious. She threw her arms around his neck and started kissing him.

. . .

Gee! Rhonda was right. She was crazy about him; it couldn't be otherwise.

. . .

* * *

. . .

**Here you are! The chapter that wasn't meant to be. Twenty one bis now better known as Twenty Two.**

**See you soon. Thanks to you all for reading. Double Thanks to those who review: Jose Ramiro, Nep2uune, Carlin, PresleyRox. Your words mean the world. :) **

**About halfway done with next chapter. Hope don't keep you guys waiting long.  
**

**I don't own Hey Arnold!**

**August 17th, 2015.**


	23. Night Walk

**Rocket to the Moon**

**Chapter Twenty Three**

**Night Walk  
**

* * *

**. . .**

Arnold slammed the door. Just after he did, he stopped mid stairs already regretting it. He growled loudly, blowing out some steam. He was not like that; he wanted nothing else than being lying on the couch while watching some TV and drinking a cold beer but it was not possible. She made it no possible. She was like a Grinch; going from one side to the other, whining about everything and trying to pick a quarrel until there was no peace anymore. He couldn't live like that. He hated it.

He descended the rest of the stairs and then walked down the street, deciding to go for a walk. Certainly, it has to be Claire's longest sulk ever, he thought. At first he thought it was nothing but a tantrum, but it had almost been two weeks now. She didn't like that he kept to himself most of what he heard at Helga's. She just couldn't believe they've spent so many hours talking about the old neighborhood and the few unimportant things he'd already shared. Arnold could just not believe why she cared this much about other people's affairs!

.

* * *

.

As he crossed the street he tried to forget about Claire and all her nonsense. He looked ahead. It was dark, and cold, but the night was still young; his watch read quarter to eight. He breathed deeply several times expecting that the cold air would help him to clear his mind.

Well, if he was having a bad time at home, at least his job was a very different story. He was having the time of his life. First of all, his relation with Helga was perfect; it hadn't suffered in the least because of the memories and moments shared, or because the experience of getting to know each other more intimately and most of all, because of the almost kiss. She kept greeting him everywhere they bump into each other and continued being nice and friendly just like she did before. He sighed completely unaware of the goofy grin that was perched on his face.

In second place, even when he still did - let's say- 'general work', he had now become Dick's principal assessor; every legal document that went to Operations passed by Arnold's hands. Working close with him and his team wasn't the highlight of his life of course, but the fact that he'd become one of the heads of Legal Department and now had a couple of people working under his orders certainly was.

Unfortunately, it didn't mean that he already have his own private office.

Poor Grace! Now she had to hide her face every time she bumped into him and had to explain that she hadn't found a proper vacant space yet. Arnold understood the situation and didn't complain, unlike Dick. His boss was no happy by the fact that the man in charge of his legal documents worked in open space in the middle of the hall; and he was no discreet to complain loudly about it.

Fortunately, other than dealing with Operations team and Dick's uncomfortable visits to his work spot there were no other lowlights in his new job post. Being in the open hall had its good side, he thought. He was not isolated for one. He was able to keep updated in real time about the daily comings and goings of the office: from greeting people from all the departments to the breakup of the week.

It wasn't as he had become fond of gossiping all of a sudden, but it was kind of hard to keep himself from the idle chat that filled the time and lives of his coworkers and most passersby. In Daphne words: '_It's called 'Sharing Information' now, not gossiping Arnold, and it's not idle. It's actually meant to create healthy work environments. Every company worth its salt is integrating it to its system; just like they do with Lean Manufacturing, Zero Defects and all that bullshit…'_.

As Arnold had already said, it wasn't easy to keep himself from the new 'know-hows', right?

In that matter, all he could say was that everything that happened in the office followed its usual course. Henry kept coming and going his way up and down the place, for instance. About twice per day, he stepped into his floor –either working or losing idling his time – and he never failed to greet people in his way around. Arnold observed him intently; almost wishing he mixed names or said something inappropriate, like confusing people's backgrounds or something of the like, but it never happened. It seemed as if he really knew closely every one of the employees because it wasn't only the thing with the names. In no few occasions Arnold saw him asking about sons, daughters, parents, pets or even diseases, for God' sake! How in the hell he did that, Arnold wondered. And for heaven' sake, why did he care?! In what way anything of this had anything to do with him? He berated himself. He meant, Henry knowing everybody's names… How this affected him? ... Why, by the way? But the truth was that it affected him. He almost hated that people seemed to have him in great esteem. He was the boss for God's sake! People hated bosses. He should be as beloved as Montgomery Burns!

. . .

* * *

. . .

Arnold raised his eyes to the darkened sky and exhaled. He should stop acting like a jealous teenager… but the truth was that he actually felt like that. Since the day spent with Helga he was feeling like a teenager again. He felt almighty, full of energy, optimist, a dreamer… but he also felt insecure, irresolute and hopeless. He was afraid to admit he was in love. He was afraid that being in love meant he had to suffer from unrequited love; that he had to see his heart going through the agony of knowing he'd never know what it is like to hold her in his arms, to touch her face, to kiss her lips. He'd never know what it was like to wake-up next to her in bed in the morning, bodies entwined…

He moaned…. No more thinking about that, he scolded himself. No more thinking about his guiltiness either. About why he still turned to Claire every night in search of her warmth and the balm she gave to his needs. He shook his head with force, almost getting himself a whiplash. The woman he wanted had another man; the woman he had wasn't the one he wanted…

God! What was it all? Was it a whim, an impulse? He wanted a girl just because he liked her? Was he unable to control his impulses?

Or was it love?

It was all so overwhelming, so unbearable. It was beyond his understanding. He didn't want to think anymore. He closed his eyes for a second as the tension in his shoulders reached its peak and then started to go down, in a slow, painful descent.

He should focus in the good, he thought after a while, looking out through the bus windows. He should better recreate the feeling of when walking by her side, or playing like small kids in the vacant lot. It was pure bliss, though he didn't realize at the moment. There was a subtle sensation of belonging. As if everything was in the right place and the right time; like if in those precious moments the universe was in synchrony. The memory brought a grin to his face; the remembrance of her hair and her eyes…. He'd found himself humming to Frankie Valli's old song quite often: as he went up and down at home, out on the streets, in the hallways, at work, not with little or unfortunate surprise, of course.

Because surprising yourself was nothing compared to having been caught in the middle of the sublime _'I love you baby, and if it's quite alright - I need you baby to warm the lonely nights – I love you ba…'_ when you're standing right in front of the formidable Vice-president of Operations who happen to be looking at you with a sneer.

"Get it together, Shortman!" the almost giant spoke with his thunder voice so the entire floor turned to see him and snickered. "I'm sure your girl is feeling just the same…" He'd patted his cheek hard. Arnold shrugged him off and pretended he wasn't ashamed as he kept going; cheek throbbing. He was happy. What was the big deal anyway? There was no reason to feel embarrassed… there shouldn't be. Of course later that day, when took his place at the meeting room, Stan brought everything up again and he had to endure being the butt of everyone's jokes.

.

* * *

.

Well, and now that he was thinking about the guys from Operations, truth was that they kept acting as the resident bullies, but they seemed calmer now. 'Gregwise' suggested Arnold that he'd already gotten over the first impression, and he may be right. Maybe once that you get to know the people around you, you stopped noticing their singularities.

His superior, Greg, was very smart and practical. So he must be right. Because once you're fully informed about people's background it was easier to understand them. Deb for instance, was one of them, Arnold thought as he observed her leaving Greg's office and heading for the stairs; a deep frown perched on her forehead. It was easy for Arnold to understand now what was behind her persistent sadness...

What would it be like? To know that the love of your life is gone forever and that there's nothing you can do about it? Arnold shook his head feeling a heavy oppression in his chest. He didn't want to get lost in such despair. Not now. He exhaled hard and looked both sides of the street before crossing to the other side.

Or Dick, seated right in front of him as they discussed the particularities of an agreement earlier that week. He pointed out parts of the document with his habitual authority and command; not admitting complains; getting annoyed with your suggestions; always seemingly surprised to realize you were only a human being with normal human skills, not an immortal demigod owner of the absolute truth like he was.

Arnold had ended following Greg's advices. _'The secret is in the approach'_, he used to say. _In English?_ Drop the bad news little by little; never correct him in public; never point out something that he did wrong because he'll take it after you and you'll never see the end of it. What would be the point? There is no merit in unnecessary suffering.

If you want him to do something- for you or for himself- you cannot ask it directly. You should just drop the hint, plant the notion, and let him come with the idea. In one word: let him win, always, under all circumstances. '_There is a reason why Deb chose you, Arnold'_, Greg had ended. '_You have a way with people_.'

Arnold puffed. He almost felt like Peter Parker. '_With great power came great responsibilities.'_ Uncle Ben would say. Arnold shook his head. '_Yeah, just your typical Spiderman!"_ He snorted. Truth was that this wasn't the first time in his career that he had to deal with bosses of the kind. Still, without taking merit, those meetings used to get to Arnold's nerves more than he liked to admit.

But even then, now that Arnold's perception had changed, it also did his tolerance. It was suddenly obvious to him that Dick had social issues. He didn't like company. He got annoyed when someone got in his way or spoke to him. He was always observing the surroundings with watchful eyes. Even that thing with his morning greetings: 'Hi Deb', 'Hi Grace', 'Hi Shortman' –please note than he was amongst the privileged ones these days - seemed to be a calculated mechanism to control his interactions with the rest of people. After watching him closely Arnold believed that even his hostility was nothing else but over-defensiveness in disguise. Mostly of course. Obviously he'd learned to be purely aggressive at some point in the way, and he enjoyed it.

Arnold was not a psychologist but he always had a way with reading people. Under this new understanding he saw that Dick was never warm and always kept his distance, even with his work team. Contrary to his initial opinion, he knew his relationship with the team wasn't as good as it seemed. The guys went with the flow; it was easier this way. When he was in good mood everyone chatted and joked and talked shit about everyone and everything; ordinarily they being the big shit and the rest of the people being mostly suckers. But when he was in bad mood they all remained quiet and only spoke when necessary. Yeah, you heard right. This group of tough guys could act either as the resident bullies or as a timorous group of preschoolers. Their boss' mood was the prompt. But in disregard of that, Arnold was sure the group was still faithful to their leader.

Maybe the only one person in the group who stood Dick's dominant presence was Stan. Four inches taller than him and about 100 pounds heavier surely made a difference. Even Dick had to think twice before messing with Stan. And of course there was also Henry, but there was not usual to see them out there together, which was great, and it was not only Arnold's opinion. It was a documented fact.

. . .

* * *

. . .

A few weeks back, Mueller Enterprises was considering changing their image. Henry Mueller's pic would be substituted by a brand new one that included both Muellers. It turned out that after several shootings nobody was happy with the results. Henry and Dick together looked '_too tough_' to be the friendly face of a global company. In words of one of the members of the outsourced PR agency '_I wouldn't be surprised if The Valkyrie had started playing in the background._'

'Tell me about it!" was the extensive snort all around the office. How they resolved the issue? They brought Helga Pataki in. The photo now hung from the wall behind the receptionist desk, at 30th floor, and probably in every Mueller's office all around the world. Truth was that Helga being a blue eyed blonde didn't quite help them to look less _–well -_ like a German stereotype, but it couldn't be denied that now they look nice, warm, welcoming… like a family. Helga brought warmness to the picture.

Warmness...

Helga?

Who'd have thought?

. . .

* * *

. . .

"Who'd have thought?"

_Right? _

Arnold repeated the question to himself when realizing he was standing in front of the 4?7 Park Avenue. He turned around. How he made it to this point? He could not remember for the sake of it. He recalled vaguely the dull rocking of a bus and … nothing else. He looked around again, and then to the interior of the building. There was warm inviting lighting in the interior and before he thought twice he gave a step forward. A uniformed man opened the door for him and a second later he was uttering Helga's name in response to the guy's question. The man's smile wavered for a second but then he nodded and took the phone's handset.

"Mr. Arnold Shortman is here to see Ms. Pataki…" he uttered rather formally "yes… yes… _yes_," he bowed helpfully his head even when it was obvious he wasn't being seen by his interlocutor "Alright, sir. I send him up straightaway."

"This way, please," the man preceded him down the hall and to the elevator that was already waiting. He pressed 17 "Here you are. 17B." he informed, and smiled again "Have a nice evening, Mr. Shortman."

Arnold barely realized all what had happened in the blink of an eye.

"Sir?" he said aloud. The person the guy talked to was… _a 'him'_?

Less than a minute later the he was standing in front of the –again - semi open door of apartment labeled 17B. _These people never close the door or what?_ He grumbled, uncomfortable. '_Why am I even here?'_ He berated himself. '_I should have fled while I could',_ he thought as he looked around. '_Bah, this is ridiculous!'. _ He knocked the door and a muffled sound came from the interior. Frowning, he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

"Excuse me?" he said aloud.

The cat with his tail high was coming his way to see his visitor. Arnold leaned to caress him but the feline ran away.

"_Over here,"_ a voice was heard.

"Uh oh."

It was no other but Henry's voice.

. . .

* * *

. . .

**I don't own Hey Arnold!**

**As I said before, second part of this chapter will be here by the end of this week. You know I'm not much of a cliffhanger but I had to cut if off. It was a 24 pages Word document and it'd be a looong reading. Hope you enjoyed this. Next one is way longer.**

**Thanks for reading; particularly to those who follow/favorite this. Special thanks go to Nep2uune, José Ramiro, Carlin, Khaleesi and Trunkgirl85. ****You really make my day, guys. ****Your words are the best encouragement to keep doing this. **** : )**

**I'll come later to fix typos and so.**

**Sept 8****th****, 2015.**


	24. Meet the Boss

**Rocket to the Moon**

**Chapter Twenty Four **

**Meet the Boss **

* * *

**It's a long chapter. I've warned you :)**

* * *

**. . .**

"Mr. Arnold Shortman is here to see Ms. Pataki…" the guard uttered rather formally "yes… yes… _yes_," he bowed helpfully his head even when it was obvious he wasn't being seen by his interlocutor "Alright, sir. Right away."

"This way, please," the man preceded him down the hall and to the elevator that was already waiting. He pressed 17 "Here you are. 17B." he informed, and smiled again "Have a nice evening, Mr. Shortman."

Arnold barely realized all what had happened in the blink of an eye.

"Sir?" he said aloud. The person the guy talked to was… a 'him'?

Less than a minute later the he was standing in front of the –again - semi open door of apartment labeled 17B. These people never close the door or what? He grumbled, uncomfortable. 'Why am I even here?' He berated himself. 'I should have fled while I could', he thought as he looked around. 'Bah, this is ridiculous!'.

He knocked the door and a muffled sound came from the interior. Frowning, he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

"Excuse me?" he said aloud.

The cat with his tail high was coming his way to see his visitor. Arnold leaned to caress him but the feline ran away.

"Over here," a voice was heard.

'Uh oh.' He said to himself. It was no other but Henry's voice.

Swallowing hard, Arnold straightened his shoulders as he tried to place the spot where the voice was coming from; it was one of the bedrooms. If he should follow the cat's prompt then he had to head for one in the center. Arnold closed the entrance door and walked up, feeling a funny sensation in the back of his neck as he advanced. _What the hell I'm going to say when they asked me what I'm doing here?_

He paused briefly before entering to the chamber. "Hello?" he greeted.

"That was fast." The voice said again, somewhat breathlessly. It came from the bathroom, whose door happened to be wide open "I thought I'd have time to finish this before your arrival." Arnold raised his brows in mock surprise.

"Well, the elevator is fast…" he stated tentatively "unlike the one at the office,"

Henry snorted. Arnold vacillated again… and then looked around the dim lit room. He didn't know what to do but since it seemed he had to do something he walked on, stopped by the door and peeked inside only to blink at the image. Henry was sitting on his heels as he - "Hi" Arnold greeted him - as he was cleaning the cat's litter box.

"Hi," Henry grumbled the answer.

"Do you need some help?" he offered. Arnold couldn't help but smile at the image. Not every day you get to see the owner of Mueller Enterprises doing the dirty work.

Henry stopped what he was doing to look at him with an awkward smile.

"Actually I do," he chortled, rising up his face to avoid Smoking's tail. "I'd appreciate if you take the cat off me,"

The cat seemed to be having fun rubbing himself against Henry as he was doing his handy work.

"Sure," he said as he stepped inside the narrow space of the shower. "Seems that he doesn't like that you are…mmm," Arnold vacillated.

"Taking the crap out of… _his box litter_?" Henry laughed. "Oh, come on, you don't know him. I think he's actually inspecting my work."

Arnold extended his arms to take the cat away from Henry, but Smoking reacted at his proximity adopting a defensive stance and hissing at him. Then he ran to the end of the shower room from where he hissed again.

"Seems that he doesn't like you," Henry said matter of factly as he hurried to end his work. He got up, put the bag with the dirt into a second plastic bag along with his plastic gloves and left the room.

Arnold turned to see the cat but the feline snuck away from him and ran behind Henry. He washed his hands in the sink and followed him outside. Before leaving the room he stopped for a moment to blink when realization fell on him. Looking around with big round eyes; he grasped that the room was nothing else but the cat's chamber. The furniture and decoration said so. He shook his head with disbelief and walked to the kitchen.

"Was that…" he asked when found the other man washing his hands in the laundry "the cat's room?"

"Yes, it is." Henry nodded his head as he dried his hands with a paper towel. "I keep saying Helga it has to be the most spoiled cat in the entire world but she doesn't listen." He pointed to the corner as he passed by his side in his way to the fridge. Arnold tilted his head as he observed the modern cat feeder in the end of the room; it has three types of food in it.

"I think I agree." he said "His room it's funnier than mine."

Henry's all response was a snort. He took out two beers from the fridge and straightened up to his full height as he handed him a bottle. Arnold always knew Henry was a tall man; but being in the enclosed space of a kitchen he could be really imposing.

"Helga is…?"

"Not here." Henry informed naturally as he opened his bottle "She didn't say goodbye I assume?" he sneered before turning around to dispose of the bottle cap.

Arnold shrugged his shoulders and pretended he didn't catch the other man scorn "No," he admitted "Otherwise I wouldn't be here."

"Right," the man nodded and left the kitchen. Arnold followed him to the last of the halls, the paneled room, where he turned the lights on and walked around the place.

"Where did she go?" Arnold asked as he observed the older man taking a swig of his beer.

"Guatemala." He informed "She took a plane yesterday and is not coming back 'til Saturday." He took a seat and invited to Arnold to do the same.

"I see."

"And since Lupita, the housekeeper, also asked for the rest of the week, I had to come and check that Cigarette Smoking Man is doing well."

They both turned to see the cat that have been following them but keeping his distance. Henry patted his armrest and the cat ran up to his side. After a few turns and rubs; he got seated on Henry's legs facing him. Then he got up on his hind legs and started playing with his collar's button.

Arnold observed the scene with narrowed eyes. Something in it made him recall the coziness of his childhood home.

"I haven't had a cat in a long time," he said with a sigh before could stop himself. "I had when I was a kid. My grandmother collected- er- loved them." He corrected himself.

"Collected them?" Henry snorted as he stroked the cat "Like a cat lady or what?"

Arnold couldn't help but laugh "Not exactly like that but…" he shrugged his shoulders "Well, yeah, something of the sort,"

Henry nodded. "They are good company. It's relaxing to have them around. Your grandmother probably knew it."

"Yeah, I'm sure she did." Arnold smiled recalling his grandparents, and -of course- the bunch of pets that lived in the boarding house back then "She was a wise woman,"

Henry nodded and took a swig of his beer, "You know?" he then asked abruptly "I knew you and Helga were friends and all but…" he made a pause "I didn't know you were the kind of friends who visit each other…" he stopped and looked directly at him "-this late at night."

Arnold stirred uncomfortably and he was almost sure he blushed. What was he implying? The blond boy regretted his choice. He was seated right in front of Henry Mueller; his bosses' boss; the man who owned the firm he worked for; the man who had a relation with Helga Pataki; the girl he was visiting late at night without a previous invitation. Shit! This has to be how respondents must feel in front of their interrogators.

"To tell the truth," Arnold started rather uncomfortably "it doesn't happen. I…" he paused; he was nervous but wouldn't let himself to stutter. He was the lawyer after all "I went out for a walk and decided to…" he looked at the floor with awkwardness "I don't know- I didn't plan it; just happened. I guess I just needed someone to talk to" he ended raising his sight.

"I see," Henry leaned in his seat and took another swig of his beer. He was still petting the cat. He looked at him intently. Arnold suspected the look he was giving to him was the same look that was rejected by the PR people. It was an oddly penetrating gaze that didn't make you feel comfortable, in the least, but rather the opposite. "So, girl trouble, huh?" he asked, snapping out of it so fast that Arnold couldn't believe his eyes.

"You can say so." Arnold admitted, frowning in confusion.

"Then you came to the right place, son. I'm a girl trouble expert." He chuckled "Maybe it's true what people say. Everything happens for a reason."

"You don't believe that, do you?" Arnold retorted right away; taking his chance to change the conversation. He drank from his beer. There was no way in the world he was going to talk to Henry Mueller about his love life…. Not – in a thousand – years…

Or that was he planned… because a minute later here he was; blabbing out all his love life… or –well - part of it.

"And then… I just left. I needed to get out… needed some fresh air…"

"Did you slam the door in your way out?" Henry chortled. Arnold raised his sight to see the corner of his lips turning upwards.

Alright. He had no word. Sue him!

"Yeah, I did. I was so angry; I couldn't help it." he gave a nod and took another swig of his beer.

"Good!" Henry appraised "A man needs to state his point."

"Did it ever happen to you?" Arnold asked all of a sudden. Henry raised his brows showing amusement "Discussing with your wife… girlfriend… I mean…?"

The old snorted, ignoring his vacillation. "Of course it happened. All the time." Arnold frowned. He didn't expect Henry actually answering him. "Girls are all the same; have always been. That's the problem with love, there's not love..."

"Ethical…?"

Why the hell he did say that? Arnold chortled. He didn't know why but some of Henry's expressions made him remember of his grandpa. They weren't the expressions themselves - Henry was classy to the bone. And it wasn't the age thing either, other than his white hair and undeniable wrinkles Henry was surprisingly youthful and jovial for his age. He didn't look like the seventy-some Arnold knew he was. No. It was something more related to his easiness, _his sauciness_…

"Ethical?" Henry asked, seemingly amused for his word of choice. "Well, why not?" he shrugged his shoulders "We're not talking about a random girl that helps you go through the night, right? But about the girl that shares your home and your bed. The girl you might want to become your wife a given day."

"That's the point…" Arnold mumbled hesitantly.

"Well, this girl of yours… do you already proposed?" Arnold shook widely his head "Have you thought in proposing to her?"

Arnold inhaled. "A few months ago I thought I should propose…"

"You _thought_ you _should_…" he asked with a frown "What happened?"

"I'm not sure anymore."

"Why? Because of another girl? That's your 'girl problem'?

"No!" he almost shouted and slumped back in his seat when he realized what he did. Henry blinked theatrically and the cat turned to see him with surprised eyes "Is not because of some other girl… I don't know…" Henry was observing him with a half-smile "I'm just… unable to see… a reason… to propose…" he trailed off. He didn't know why he got himself in this mess, he thought as he closed his eyes and leaned his head back.

"A-alright. This is getting interesting." Henry laughed and got up "But before we go on I think I need another beer." Arnold cursed himself. His so called sudden impulsiveness – so blessed a few days ago – was now a pain in the ass, but before he'd had the chance to get all bothered, Henry was back. He handed him a new bottle and took his previous seat. "You think…?" he hesitated "Why do you think that happens?"

Arnold let go all his apprehension and repeated the question in his mind. For the life of him he couldn't come with a response. Maybe it was just that there wasn't a response. Maybe he was too self-conscious to think clear.

How he ended in here? He was nervous; he wasn't thinking straight; he wasn't going to say anything indecorous about Claire, that's for sure…

"I'm afraid I have no answer for that." he finally admitted.

"You have no answer for that?" Henry nodded and leaned back seemingly thoughtful for a moment. After another swig he said "Have you realized that… in the end, after the so called 'sexual revolution' girls didn't get what they were looking for…"

Arnold raised his sight to look at him with a frown.

"Sorry… I didn't warn you. I'm talking in general." He paused suddenly and leaned forward "It didn't mean to criticize. I'm just philosophizing here; thinking aloud if you want." he cleared up "I mean, girls, they wanted to change the society; the codes of behavior related to sexuality and to interpersonal relationships; to take the decisions; which is alright. I'm happy they did it. It's their right after all..."

Arnold leaned back and listened intently. Arnold still didn't know if he'd agree with him but Henry expressing his philosophy was something worth to listen.

"Anyway, I think they also got some other unexpected things in the bargain; men refusing to marry is one of them; thinking it too much before tying the knot. I don't want to sound like my spinster aunt Ophelia here but, as she used to say, why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free, right?"

"That's hard thing to say." Arnold uttered.

"I know, but we are men, Arnold. We see things from this side of the barrier."

"Well," Arnold answered after giving it a thought "Fortunately not all men think like that."

"That's good to hear,"

"Because there are men that still want to marry?" he leaned forward to ask.

Henry shook his head "Because despite it all, girls still want the whole package." Arnold frowned again "The ring, the white dress, the reception, the house in the suburbs and the SUV in the driveway." Henry pointed out.

Arnold was about to reply, but then he remembered Claire, Brenda -and even Phoebe! – mentioning the house with the picket fence in the suburbs and he chose to bit his tongue.

"You might be right…" he finally said "I guess the battle of the sexes is an ongoing debate."

"It is, isn't it? I think we'll never see the end of it." Henry exhaled "That's why I'm not willing to lose out time discussing about it. We're not going to find the solution tonight, are we?"

Arnold chortled. "I concede you that."

"I'm glad you agree with me, son."

"Why?" Arnold smirked "You don't like opposition?"

His reply made Henry crack a loud laugh. The old man leaned back, his legs crossed in the American way and observed him with a smile "In part," he laughed again "but mainly because it'd be a shame that a clever guy like you wasted his time discussing pointless subjects. These things are useless and a waste of time; unprofitable."

"Unprofitable?" Arnold chuckled.

"Unprofitable." Henry gave a nod and smirked "Are you trying to make me feel ashamed for the way I think, for being who I am?" He raised an inquiring brow "You're not going to get it, son. I might have had a better background that most people, but that doesn't mean I haven't worked hard to reach my position. Everyone does what they can with what they have, don't you think?"

Arnold vacillated. "Well, even when I admit that it's kind of hard to put myself in your shoes, I guess you're right."

"I see…" the other man remained silent and gave him that hard stare again. Arnold wondered if he was aware of how profoundly aggressive he looked right now. He breathed deeply and exhaled by the mouth in an effort to don't take it personal. So far Henry had been quite friendly, to tell the truth. "Well," the man in front of him smiled and the hostility disappeared in a blink, like it had happened before "in sight that we seem to be coming to an impasse let's go back to your girl problem," he pronounced aloud "and the answer to why you haven't proposed yet."

Arnold grumbled deliberately "I thought we'd already let that behind."

Henry chortled. "Why you make it so difficult-" he asked "when the answer is quite simple?"

"Is it?" Arnold replied with a question on his own "What is it? That I have the milk for free?"

"Well, you said it." Henry bowed his head and leaned back again "Although, I thought you'd have an actual answer and not a just a factor,"

"Meaning?" Arnold leaned forward to listen to him with his full attention.

"She's not the one." He spat offhandedly. Arnold leaned his head against the backrest feeling like he'd been slapped in the face "Sorry, I don't use to beat around the bushes." The blond boy nodded still absentmindedly "What take me to the next question:" Henry went on "Do you really didn't have the answer, or you were denying it to yourself?"

Henry left him alone with his thoughts and waited patiently until Arnold was ready to start talking.

"I suppose…" Arnold looked up to the ceiling "that I'm not ready to take up a stance."

Henry raised his brows "Well, that's a nice discovering. At least you're already aware of what's happening…"

"At least?"

"Here we go! Beating around the bushes again, Mr. Shortman?" Henry snorted "I mean, you're not doing anything about it. You're losing your time!" He shook his head with disappointment "I keep telling Dick the same thing! I don't know what is happening to young people these days. The more you take to make a decision, the more you delay start living the life you deserve."

"Do you really think that?" Arnold raised his head "What would you have done?" he asked "I mean, if you were in my position? Would you have proposed…?"

It still surprised him that Henry replied without vacillations.

"Of course not!" he declared "I've never done if I knew she wasn't he one."

"How did you know who is the one?"

Henry hummed before answering.

"Well, I've only proposed once, and it was long time ago…" he rubbed his chin "Truth is that I don't know how to answer that." He shrugged and then raised his brows "I just knew it."

"I've always wondered if there's a hint or something that make you to be sure you're doing the right thing…" Arnold mumbled, more to himself than to his interlocutor.

"I don't know if you ever get the conviction that you're doing the right thing. What I remember is that she was perfect; she filled my expectations in every sense."

"What made her perfect?" Arnold continued with his interrogatory.

Henry smiled guardedly "Are you really asking me that?" Arnold nodded with conviction. "Alright," he paused as he looked behind Arnold as in to put his thoughts in order "In that case, I think I have to make clear that the last of my intentions would be bursting your bubble, but I'm afraid that's what's about to happen."

"Bursting my bubble?"

"About love … and domestic happiness."

"Is it that hard?" Arnold raised an inquiring brow.

"Once that I've told you what I actually think, you'll see me a cold hearted guy," he snickered "Hell! Maybe I am. I don't see life the way you do, Arnold. I'm older; less idealistic. And what I'm about to tell is the point of view of an old man, of course…"

"You're not that old…"

Henry snickered. "You think so?" Arnold nodded "Thanks, son" Henry accepted the compliment with a bow; and then he looked at him briefly as a mischievous smile appeared on his lips. "You know what they say: 'A man's only as old as the woman he feels'" He exhaled yearningly and Arnold found himself squirming against his best will. "It was Groucho Marx who said it first, I think."

Arnold couldn't bring himself to speak one single word within the following minute. His mind seemed disconnected, cloudy. His chest felt heavy with an unknown feeling. It was not rage. It was not jealousy. It was not the impulse to beat Henry's face and knock him off…

Or was it? He wondered when realized his hands had become fists.

"Are you alright?" Henry asked. His blue eyes were bright and the impish smile was still perched on his lips. Arnold's fists twitched "I thought I saw you turning white. It's not because of the beer, right?"

"No, of course not. I'm fine." He mumbled.

"You sure? I was about to get to myself another beer but I think we should wait," he leaned back, and with all the patience in the world he checked his cellphone.

Arnold observed him without blinking. He tilted his head. This man was playing with him; he knew it. He knew he liked Helga and was messing with his head. But what could Arnold do about it? She was with him after all, she'd said he was all what she wanted; and for much that he hated it, Henry has every right to brag about it. There was nothing he could do about it.

The old man turned to Arnold and spoke again. "You still want me to answer your question or it was enough of crude reality for one day?"

Yeah, messing with his head…

"Would it help to … my actual situation?"

It was enough for him. He should get going.

"You tell me!" the man in front of him said expressively "I guess the situation you're in this precise moment - even when you didn't tell me the whole story – has to do with the fact that she's angry at something; something you did, something that she believe you did, or something that you failed to do. Am I right?"

Arnold shrugged his shoulders and let that a hint of a tired smile curve his lips "Go on,"

"Well, whatever it's been; you should've stopped it before it grew."

"Before it grew?" he frowned and shifted his position in the couch "What…? What are we exactly talking about?"

"What 'exactly' happened?" Henry countered back. "You didn't buy her a treat; you forgot her birthday; you didn't take the trash out; you didn't read her mind as you're supposed to do; or didn't share a secret…" he looked up to see him "Well, my dear friend, whatever it'd be, it's obvious this is not the first time this happens." His pointer finger signaled to the floor. "What I think it's that you should have made clear long ago that you weren't going to give in just because she would pout, or throw a tantrum, or deny sex or whatever…"

"You mean everything comes down to her attitude?"

"To your attitude, to be precise." Henry now pointed at him.

"How in the hell…?"

"She's taking advantage that you're soft. You need to stop being soft when you need to be firm." He smiled with indulgence "I'd bet you always end yielding that's why she's so sure she's going to win… once again."

"Why do you think I always end yielding?"

"Because you're a good person. You yourself just tell me you don't like to fight. I might be wrong; maybe you're not soft all the time. Maybe you already know that sometimes you have to fight back. In this case, I think you need to start to stand your feet and be firm. Women could kick and scream all what they want, but then they learn that you're boss, and believe me, they like it. They respect you more if you're the one who wears the pants in the relationship."

Arnold scoffed and leaned back.

"This is starting to sound like an express course of 'How to be a macho man'."

Henry chortled. "What would be the problem? I mean, if you start acting like a macho man?"

"I'm nothing like that." He mumbled. "That wouldn't be me."

"You could try…" he smirked "You might get unexpected reactions."

Arnold looked at him with doubt, but then his tongue was faster than his mind, and before he could stop himself he'd blurted "You did that to Helga?"

"Ha!" Henry cracked a laugh and got up. "Nice try!" he exclaimed and walked away "I need to pee." He threw him an pleased glance "You bring up the next round."

Arnold laughed to himself as he stood and followed Henry to the main area. Henry walked ahead; a lively, youthful gait in his step. Once he disappeared behind a door Arnold walked to the kitchen. He should've known better. He should've supposed he wasn't going to make Henry spill the beans about his relation with Helga. It couldn't be that easy. And being realistic, he didn't want to know anyway. He couldn't have taken it.

Arnold shook his head to get rid of those thoughts. It'd been a nice conversation so far and he planned to keep it on. There was no use to be at home right now, and as long the other man wanted to keep a conversation Arnold was willing to continue.

Expert in girl problem, Arnold snorted. For a moment he wondered if Henry really thought he was a big softie; he hoped he didn't because he wasn't. But thinking twice, maybe his advice was sincere; maybe he should take it like if it'd come from a fellow guy, a comrade in arms, Gerald's. He shook his head. He swallowed a lump remembering Henry had almost guessed the real reason of his fight with Claire. And deep down Arnold knew he was right. In most of their fights Claire used to rise victorious because at most times he gave in. He hated the tension that stood between them and he always ended giving in.

He exhaled as he took the beers and walked back to the room. The cat was perched on a high shelf in the second hall and observed him silently from his high spot. The blond boy went on. Being honest he must admit that even when sulking, Claire also gave in on her own way. She didn't deny him sex and that was something. He had had enough relationships in his life to know that it was usual than woman withheld sex, but she didn't. They didn't talk much on those occasions, but it happened nevertheless, even now. Sex was like cessation of hostilities even when the cold war continued. It was weird; but it was the way they worked.

When Henry was back they started talking about random things: work, beer, sports, and so forth…

Non-unexpectedly, all roads lead to Helga.

"So… Helga told me you two played ball the other day," he chortled "that it was fun."

"Yeah, it was fun… nice…" he nodded, Arnold had copied Henry's stance with his ankle resting on his knee "She told you?"

"Yeah; she also told me you used to play ball when you were kids,"

"Ball, football, kickball, hockey…" he smiled recollecting those old times "We played almost everything. Helga was tough competition. We used to play in opposite teams, you know, I don't know why," he frowned as he recalled.

"Were you anything good?" Henry chortled "Knowing her I daresay she did chose you on purpose," Henry laughed at what was probably the innocent expression on his face "I mean, surely she'd pick the tougher players, wouldn't she?"

Arnold chortled "I think it was Harold who used to pick. But she was always his first choice."

"Then he is to blame," Henry concluded. "She's still a tough girl, you know? I haven't seen her playing ball actually, but she plays tennis, for us, the company," he pointed back "And she's dangerous. She and Dick always rise victorious in the annual competition of the Chamber. It has become an anticipated spectacle."

"Really?" Arnold wrinkled his forehead.

"They've been participating in the last four years; and they are unbeatable since year one." Henry said proudly.

"Cool," Arnold uttered, not knowing what else to say. He remained silent, and finally came with the cliché: "I've heard they are also unbeatable in the business field."

"Hmmm," Henry curved his lips in a strange gesture "Unbeatable is an odd term, since there's nothing to beat..." he paused "Well, other than their own records. But without a doubt, they are an exceptional team. I'm proud of them. The enterprise has been experiencing a steady expansion since the day they took control."

"Well, they have you for support," he said matter of factly

"No, Arnold, don't get it wrong," Henry threw him a stern look "It's almost two year that I'm not involved in the decisions."

"Really? That's not what I… heard."

Henry shrugged his shoulders "Granted, people say so many things when they don't know what's happening backstage, but I'm not behind them anymore. My partners were first to turn over their posts, but remained close. Then, since the beginning of last year, the three of us gave a unanimous step back and left the helm in their hands. We still vote, but it's just symbolic. They have our vote of confidence." Henry kept his serious expression as he went on. "Just in case you've not realized, I'm appealing to your obligation to the company here, Mr. Shortman; taking advantage that you're committed with us; with Helga at least, I hope." He paused "We're in the middle of something big; the turn over of the company if you want to call it that way; an actual but 'informal' succession." Arnold blinked twice "There are so many interests at stake. We don't want to take it out to the public eye yet. Don't want our investors flee in a stampede."

"But… why they'd do that? It's a flourishing company."

"Yes, it is. But that's the way how markets work. Incertitude is always creeping around. It's a danger. You'll never know how people will react. They often get carried away. And it's understandable to some extent; what would they think if they knew that the company is being managed only by Helga and Dick; I mean Dick just turned thirty-five last month; Helga's even younger…" He shook his head with gravity "I trust them completely; I think they both are gifted, although there's no way than the rest of people knew that…

"That's why everything needs to be managed by PR the right way… and you, Arnold; you're part of the support that we're counting on. I know you're new in here, but you're become an important part of the team. Deb assures you're our man through and through; Helga has you in the best regards. And Dick, well, you already know Dick."

Arnold snorted "Yeah, I do."

"How are you doing, by the way?" Henry changed his discourse.

"By his side?" Arnold raised his brows "It's pretty fine. It's kind of hard at the beginning but now it's okay."

"Well, you didn't expect it to be easy, right?" Henry sneered "It's not an internship what're you doing here. It's the major leagues; you're a grown man now."

Arnold raised his brows and said with gravity "I know."

Actually, when he was hired –at the elevator, by the way- he never thought he would be making it to the top in such a short period of time. It wasn't his ambition; it had just happened the same way that happened in his previous work. Maybe he was a good lawyer after all; better than he thought of himself. "It's kinda weird, you know. I wasn't expected this."

"Really?" Henry asked, he nodded and explained him and Henry smiled with indulgence "then maybe that's precisely the reason why it happens." He shrugged "You are not looking hungrily for promotion, power. You focus in doing your job and you do it right. Do you know what gifted people are like? They enjoy their jobs, they like to learn; they live up to the new challenges; they don't do it for the hope of recompense. They stand out." He said with convincement "I've been in this long enough to spot them right away. I'm convinced that when it happens it's not casual. And you, my friend, are not ordinary. You stand out."

"Thanks, I guess" Arnold smiled modestly.

"You don't need to thank. In any case, it's us who should thank we find you. In fact, I've asked who hired you, when Deb come…"

"Helga was also like that?" Arnold interrupted him. He didn't know why during Henry's discourse he couldn't help but thinking of Helga all along. He had the impression that she was also in Henry's mind.

"Helga… do you know that I was precisely thinking about her?"

"Do you?" Arnold couldn't help but smile. "How's that?" Henry also smiled, and started to talk with an unexpected sparkle.

"I was thinking about the time when I met her. God! She was so young! Just a little girl… she had still that... girly face." Henry touched his own face. "Do you know that I didn't know anything about her? I didn't even know she existed. I'm actually embarrassed about that. I mean, I heard that Bob Pataki had passed away, and I learned that his daughter was taking charge of the business…. -Oh, by the way," Henry made a pause "Bob Pataki was first in our gifted people's list. He's one of the best, ever…" he exhaled. "I never thought Bob Pataki would have a daughter like Helga. I don't know what he did or how he did it…"

Henry remained meditative but then shook his head "But we'll talk about him later. That's another story. What I was telling you was that I thought the girl that was taking charge of the business was Olga. Now, I have to go back again and say that I met Olga long ago, when she was a lovely little girl. She was so pretty than everybody was crazy about her; my wife and Roger included. My poor son fell in love with the Pataki girl…"Henry laughed "Who could blame him? She was a perfect little princess. Bob was so proud of her. He talked about her all the time. I guess you can imagine that, huh?!"

"I know what you mean. I met Olga Pataki when I was really young." He snorted. "She was extraordinary,"

"She still is." Henry hummed "But going back to Helga… I have to admit that I was kinda negligent. I should have study the case but I didn't. In my defense I'll say that back then I was giving Dick some independence. He was the one who spotted the opportunity and I let him be, let him take the lead…" Arnold took mental notes of everything "Back then I still thought he'd be one day in charge of the negotiations." Henry snorted "Well, after he came back with the second rejection I decided I'd give him a hand. Dick was right. It could become a fine acquisition. It was a nationwide electronic company in the making. But Dick is not a patient man, as you must know, and he getting frustrated. He was about to throw it all away," he chortled "Big mistake. Anyway, it was surprising. She was younger than I expected. It took me only a second to realize I was mistaken. She wasn't Olga, she was… _Helga_." Henry remained in silence for a while "Helga Pataki, of all the names…" he paused again "I confess that I felt like a deer caught in headlights. I was intrigued by this girl, by her mere existence." He chuckled "She was surly, grumpy, disrespectful…. She thought fast; she didn't hesitate to speak her mind."

"That's the Helga from my past." Arnold grinned. Henry turned to see him and nodded.

"She used to be like that…" he said.

"She told me you helped her to become a better person." Arnold added.

"I think we helped her to understand and accept herself," Henry nodded "But on the outside, you have to thank Luke instead," Henry chuckled "He helped her to become the stylish beauty she's now."

"Luke?" Arnold asked with strained voice.

"Don't you know him?" Henry raised his brows. Arnold nodded. "He's in love with her. He claims he's not gonna rest until he made her his wife."

"Luke?!" Arnold repeated, a look of revulsion in his face. Henry laughed.

"Don't worry, he's not competition…" He vacillated, looking briefly at him. "She might've gone out with him once, but that was long ago." He snickered "Everybody makes mistakes, don't you think?"

"Were they actually together?" he asked.

Henry nodded "They went out for a while… he proposed. So far I know she still have his ring…" the man with the white hair frowned and remained pensive for a while, but then blinked and turned to him "Where were we?"

Arnold breathed deeply.

"You were saying that Helga was grumpy and disrespectful back when you met her."

"Yeah, she was. Her eyes were so full of distrust… she reminded me of my son's…." Henry also breathed deeply. "There was no way I would let her go…" he mumbled almost to himself.

Arnold leaned in "That's why you bought her company even when it was overpriced?" he asked also in low voice.

Henry blinked, but tried to hid his surprise with a disdainful snort; and then turned to see him with gauging eyes

"Maybe…" he shrugged his shoulders "She knew very well that was she was in the table wasn't only the value of the company but the name, her projections and plans, all her hard work. She was already on expansion but her resources were limited." Henry exhaled "I admired her determination and saw the potential… on both, the enterprise and her. My partners said back then that I had been fooled; but time proved me right,"

Henry threw him a strange sight again, as if he knew he was saying something he wasn't supposed to say and expected him to fail to understand. Arnold has a lot of thinking to do. Everything seemed so… planned. As if in Henry's eyes Helga had been an acquisition.

"Now she's an essential part of the company." He uttered.

"Not only the company, Arnold." Henry said with gravity "She's become the center of my world. Without her my existence is meaningless."

Arnold observed the man as he spoke and walked around the room. He took an extended lungful. Arnold started pondering. Was that true? Helga knew she had him in her hands?

"_What if she leaves?"_ He hadn't realized he'd actually spoken.

"She won't" Henry gave a shook of his head, thoughtful.

"Why are you so sure? Bob Pataki left, didn't he?"

"That's a different story. Bob Pataki was fired. He couldn't stay in the company any longer."

"Was he fired?" Arnold was surprised "Why? I thought he was a good employee?"

"You're curious Mr. Shortman," Henry chuckled "I thought you were a man who kept himself from gossip. Seems that I was mistaken." he laughed again. "Well, if you have to know, then I have to tell that it was me who actually fired him-" Henry gave him a sideways look "after a particularly hot argument where we ended coming to blows..." Henry raised his hand to touch his jaw and rubbed it "Bob was good with the left, did you know it? I don't remember much after that." He chortled. "To this day my jaw still hurts."

"He knocked you out?" Arnold couldn't believe it. Henry raised his brows with diversion "_Why?_"

"Why two men get into a fist fight, Arnold?" he shook his head, still amused. "Don't ask any more. I'm not gonna answer. Still to these days it's not easy to admit it." He smirked probably because the stupid look of surprise in Arnold's face "That's right Arnold. It was right then that Bob Pataki earned the 'Big' label." He made quotation marks in the air "He knocked out his boss."

"I'd never guessed it." Arnold finally spoke. Henry had disappeared once again and had come back a few minutes later. Arnold was still shocked. He'd actually never guessed it. It was so surreal. He knew Bob Pataki all his life; he was a constant presence in his childhood; a noisy braggart. Still, he'd never imagined all that background about him. Why two men fight? He frowned.

"I think I can see why you say that."

Arnold snorted softly "It's just… it's like if the past were still alive."

"Yeah, it is." Henry nodded thoughtful "The history is still alive Mr. Shortman. If you don't realize you'll miss so much in here…" he said cryptically.

Arnold observed him as he walked around the place with the cat following his steps. Finally he opened the French doors and Smoking got out.

"This cat loves the night air." He said as he half-closed the doors and turned to him.

There was so much that Arnold still wanted to know about the past but he decided there were other important things too, so he went on.

"So, if you are not looking after everything that Helga and Dick do at work, then what's what you do nowadays, Mr. Mueller?"

"Are you trying to judge me, or are you really interested Arnold?" the man smirked "I thought I'd earned to be called Henry by now." He added "After everything I'd told you tonight we're kind of friends already, don't you think." He was throwing him a guarded look.

"Of course, I'm really interested, Mr. Mue…" Henry raised his brows in mock warning "Henry." He corrected.

"Well," he paused and his eyes turned reserved, but it lasted only a second because he then blinked and went on "I've told you so many things that it has no sense to stop now. And even when it's something that everybody is going to know soon, I'd still like to count on your discretion," he said pointedly. Then breathed deeply before going on "I'm creating a foundation," he looked at him directly "I mean a humanitarian foundation. It's the very beginning, and I have a lot of work ahead." Arnold frowned; he never thought he'd see the say where Henry Muller looked insecure about something, "I'm taking baby steps because I started from zero. So, to answer your question -that's what have kept me occupied all these last months," he snorted "In fact, I was counting on you, - did you know?" he snorted again "A couple of months ago Deb told me she had the right man for the job, but then, something happened and Dick needed you, can you believe it?"

Arnold remained frozen. And then blinked twice, and thrice, startled.

"Me?" he asked, still confused "You were counting on me?"

Henry nodded.

"Yeah, Deborah told me you were too smart and you learned quickly… and that maybe you could be interested in the post, given that you've worked close with organizations of the kind before."

"W… well," Arnold stuttered "I've actually…"

"Would you like it?" Henry interrupted him.

"To work with you in the foundation?" he asked impulsively. Henry nodded "Of course..."

"But it's incredible how things change." Henry chortled "How, or when… You're now working with Dick and I know that's hard work. His occupations are so vast that I know he needs someone like you…" Arnold just nodded and listened intently. His head was in overdrive. There were so many things that he kept barely up with what Henry was telling. "But it'd be interesting; and it's a big job. For now Deborah is helping me out, but I don't want to take advantage of her. She's really kind, but she has already much to deal with in a daily basis to be charged with my work in addition. Maybe I should look for a lawyer on my own. I've already tried, you know, but it's not easy to find the right person."

Arnold spoke without thinking. "I could help you."

"You could?" Henry frowned "But son, your workload is also excessive,"

"Maybe…" he paused "But I could dedicate a few hours to help you… What have you been doing so far? Research?"

Henry got seated in the edge of his seat "I already did the research…" he paused and looked at him with caution "What do you know about foundations?" he asked.

"Well," Arnold smiled "I guess the same that you already do." He started "I know foundations are meant to pull resources together to get your goals. It's not about to use your money to get things." He made quotation marks in the air "Your money is a limited resource, and only would get a limited range of benefits before it runs out." He smirked "If you use your name or you power to pull together the resources: money, willpowers, workforce, ideals, people in the pursuit of a greater good, that's when a foundation has a meaning. Foundations -as any other enterprise - are meant to make profits too; are meant to get common goals. Are meant to make a difference in the world."

Henry was looking at him with a smile. "I like the way you talk, son" he said with a real smile; probably the more genuine smile he'd ever seen on his face "You know that it took me a long while to realize it wasn't just about money but about wills."

"Yeah, I can see that." Arnold nodded. "I had the same problem not long ago". He observed as the older man got up and walked to the kitchen to dispose his empty bottle. Arnold did the same.

"As much as this talk is getting interesting I think I have to go." Henry said disappointedly "It's almost ten o'clock. If Conchita realizes I haven't returned yet she's gonna start worrying."

Arnold nodded, supposing Conchita was the lady that helped him in the house. Henry went back to the hall to get Smoking and close the doors. Arnold helped him to check the back door. When he was back Henry had the cat in his arms while spoke softly to him before leaving him on the couch. He checked the lights before leaving the house for the night.

"How often do you make this?" he asked as they were in the elevator.

"Coming here to take care of Smoking?" Henry asked. Arnold nodded. "It's usually not necessary. Lupita comes to do the cleaning three days per week" He informed as they reached the lower level "Still, Helga and I have this… tradition. We use to go out for a walk like this at least twice a week," he shrugged his shoulders.

Arnold frowned. He didn't really want to know how those walks ended. He cleared his throat when they were outside.

"I've seen you walking all the time at the office," he said "You seem to be in pretty good shape…"

Henry cracked a laugh and turned to see him "For someone my age you mean?" he laughed rather humorously.

"No, no, I…" Arnold grumbled to himself, mortified "That's not what I meant. I, in fact…" he was sure his face had turned beet red.

"It's okay, Arnold. I'm pretty aware of my age." He patted him in the shoulder. "But the truth is that I have to be watchful all the time. I have poor circulation and a cholesterol condition. I have to be in the move all the time." He chortled "If I falter Helga won't let me live that down. She put me on a diet last year and made me lose weight…"

"Really?"

Henry nodded. "Yeah, she can be really mean, you know?"

"I guess she just wants the best for you, doesn't she? I mean, you look great,"

"Thanks, son,"

He nodded when Henry pointed across the street and they went forward. He took air and decided to change the subject.

"Do you have idea about…" he paused to order his thoughts "What kind of help your foundation would provide?"

"Oh, an interesting question Arnold." he smiled nicely again. "Really interesting," he nodded "Actually I already chose our 'target market'…" he paused and turned slightly to him as they kept moving "Any guess?" he asked.

Arnold thought for a while, but then he shrugged his shoulders and responded "No idea,"

"Do you know that choosing who you want to help is one of the toughest decisions in here?"

"Yes, I'm aware of that."

"If you were the one to make the decision, Arnold, who would you help?" Henry asked again as they stopped before a red light. He had his full attention on him.

"Kids… and education," he answered right away. He'd already thought about that.

"Exactly!" Henry almost jumped in his spot. He motioned for him to go on.

"I think…" he stopped and closed forcibly his eyes "That even when it sounds cruel…" he paused again. "You need to let the rest of the people out,"

"I know exactly what you mean, Arnold," Henry patted him in the arm "In my own opinion; it's hard to take the decision. It's so hard to know you're leaving the rest of the people out, as you said, but you have to make a choice and focus on that. There's nothing else more important than kids and education. As sad as it is, I think the world is condemned. We need to help the world more than to help a few people. I don't want you to think I'm cold hearted, or barbaric, but how I see things, we need to make sure that future generations are better than us. They need to be greater than us; our planet has better chances if people in the future are smarter than we are now."

Arnold remained thoughtful for a while, impressed by Henry's words. It was obvious that Henry had done more thinking on the subject than he ever had. Arnold's thoughts were simpler. In order to provide a better future for kids you have to get them educated; he really believed it. But Henry's vision was beyond that. He wanted to provide a better future for the world; a better future for humankind…

He half listened Henry as he kept talking about his plans until he mentioned Dick. Arnold raised his head to listening to him saying that he needed Dick's blessing because he was the future.

"Despite what it might look like, Arnold, Dick is actually a great kid. He has a charitable heart; he's nobler than most of people I know, - but for some reason he acts contrary to what I expect only to make me angry," Henry exhaled with tension "I know it's my fault. I'm not the best of the uncles; I've been mean. I had a thing for ridiculing him but I can't help it." He snorted and raised his hands in the air with impatience "He's such an easy target; always ready to take offen-" he looked down at him and snorted his incredulity "I don't know why I'm telling you this; you out of all people."

"I guess it is something that really worries you."

"Yeah, probably," Henry exhaled loudly and looked around "Where are you heading for, boy?" he asked all of a sudden. "Are you getting a cab?" he frowned "The subway?"

"I was actually thinking about walking you home… if that's okay" Arnold scratched the back of his neck, feeling suddenly inappropriate.

"You were?" Henry arched his eyebrows "That's nice of you, but…" he chortled "You don't have to…"

"Is still a long way?" Arnold asked.

"No; not at all. Five more minutes or so..." Henry hesitated.

"It's okay." Arnold raised his hands "I don't want to intrude."

"It's not that." Henry hurried to say "I don't want you to take the trouble, but it's up to you."

Arnold shrugged his shoulders.

"No problem at all," he responded.

Henry looked down at him and grinned.

"Helga always says you're the nicest kid she's ever met." He looked at him sideways "That you're so polite and never lose your cool."

"Well," Arnold snorted. "People change…"

"You did?"

The blond boy laughed again.

"If you ask my girlfriend I'm sure she said otherwise."

"I guess you're right" Henry pouted "It was how it all started…. Why was she angry, if I may know?"

"It's really silly, actually" Arnold started. He felt like speaking up; after all, Henry had confided him a lot of stuff tonight. "It has something to do with me refusing to… share… some information."

"I see…" he paused "Reserved information?"

"Not reserved particularly, but it has nothing to do with her."

"Uh huh,"

"She's not going to know anything about what we talked tonight, Mr. – Henry" Arnold looked up to see him.

Henry nodded. "I know," he said simply.

They remained in silence for a while. Arnold looked around. He hadn't realized they were reaching the end of the island; a very nice neighborhood. Arnold had never been here before, he thought. It was a kinda isolated area since East River and Queensboro Bridge were less than a hundred yards away. Before they turned right Arnold looked back. It had been the same street all along? So Henry and Helga both lived at the junction of the 58th? Helga over Park Avenue and Henry on Sutton Place? That was convenient, he thought with scorn.

The street Henry lived on had a row of nice looking condos of about four- five stories each; Henry entered into his place and invited him to come in. It was nice, ample, richly decorated… and it smelled like home despite its magnificence. Henry walked to the back and showed him his private park with sight to the East River. The garden was beautiful and the view breathtaking. Arnold breathed deeply the cold November air. You could almost forget it was NY City because it had a suburban air in it. Henry proudly showed him the park with a forged fence and gate that lead to a cute bench at the edge of the river.

A woman reached them in the yard. Henry introduced her as Conchita, the housekeeper. Conchita was a plump woman in her fifties, with short curly hair and bright brown eyes. She seemed surprised by Arnold's presence but offered him a cup of coffee nonetheless; invitation that he couldn't help but refuse. It was late. Amused, Henry observed the scene. The woman was persistent. She finally gave up but not before fixing him a food container with some 'gorditas' to take home.

Henry finally called a cab. As they waited for its arrival they continued talking about foundations. It was obvious Henry was enjoying the talk despite he seemed tired. Arnold was tired too, he thought as he yawned looking out through the window of the yellow cab. It was almost midnight now. Would Claire be worrying?

He opened the vessel as he recalled the last hours. He never suspected the night would end this way; with him sharing the evening with the owner of the company he worked for. Old Arnold. What would his grandfather say if he saw him now? 'Never eat raspberries,' came to his mind. Arnold smiled. He'd be proud, that was for sure. Phil was a great father.

Still…

It turned out Henry Mueller wasn't at all like he suspected. He was nice and agreeable, and despite he'd been kind of distant at the beginning, he became friendly then; friendlier than he'd ever expected. And Arnold was sure he also felt at ease around him because otherwise he wouldn't be talking so openly about his things; about a lot of things actually: the company, the succession, his heir, the past, his first meet with Helga. Bob… who could have thought Bob Pataki had gotten his nickname after knocking out Henry Mueller. Arnold grinned.

God! He turned to see the container on his lap. 'Las gorditas de Conchita' were delicious. They were some kind of flat biscuit with a butter-like flavor that tasted like heaven. He still couldn't believe his senses when he got home that night and he left the container on the kitchen counter.

Claire was asleep.

Or maybe she pretended she was asleep. He vacillated for a couple of minutes about if he should sleep in the couch.

He decided against it. He deserved his good rest after all.

. . .

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**I don't own Hey Arnold!**

**Here I am, bringing this ****up finally. I had to rewrite a good part of this chapter to include some things that were necessary to get out. I'm still afraid I didn't wrap it up nicely, though.I'll come back to check it again once I've uploaded the Spanish version.  
**

**Next chapter is three thousand words-long so far and I still don't know how longer it'd extend. But I'm already working on it. To give you an advance I'll say that it'll be narrated by Claire and she's gonna give us a different point of view of a mismatched couple; and that she's also going to show us the 'nice' face of another charac…. I better stop now.**

**Thanks for reading, especially to those who follow/favorite this and my other stories. Special thanks go to Nep2uune, José Ramiro, Carlin, Khaleesi and Trunkgirl85 for your reviews. You guys rock. **

**September 16, 2015.**


	25. Overlooking Central Park

**Rocket to the Moon**

**Chapter Twenty Five**

**Overlooking Central Park **

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**First attempt ever to write in the first person. A personal challenge. First and last time I hope. I'll come back to fix typos and mistakes later.  
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Here we go. A Sunday date, yay! It's been a while since we've been out on a date. I can barely contain my excitement! I roll my eyes sarcastically. We are 'supposedly' one of those couples who fancy going out and walking. Talking, dreaming, theorizing it's our thing, rather than going to the stores or fancy restaurants to spend hours wasting our time and money. A stroll, dinner and a show. What else can a girl ask for? I do anything in my power to keep a straight face as we keep walking by the busy sidewalk.

I can't help the moan of displeasure that leaves my mouth. We're starting with the stroll… only that today isn't a sunny afternoon. It's gray and cloudy; it's drizzling and it's already dark. And there's not enough melancholy in Ed Sheeran's songs; or beauty in the Broadway District to convince me that it's a good idea to stay out. I exhale, somewhat impatiently; recalling how different we are now from those old times at the beginning of our relation where when the rain and a gray day weren't a nuisance, but the exact opposite. It was exciting and the emotion was at its peak. It could be snowing for all I knew, and I was merrier.

My boyfriend thinks that going out in a date like the ones in the old times would repair our damaged relation but we just aren't the same. And who is there to blame? Time going by? The petty fights? Routine? The damage we've been inflicting to our relationship? Lack of interest? _Lack of love?_ I look up to see him walking at my side. He's trying… or at least he pretends he tries; maybe he even believe he tries - but actually he doesn't. He's here, but his mind is elsewhere. I can't deny he cares though, despite he'd stopped loving me a while ago.

I exhale painstakingly. Who am I kidding? It wasn't as if it really hurts that much anymore. I've stopped being crazily in love with him too; since months ago. It was something that started fading off bit by bit until it suddenly was a cruel reality. He doesn't trust me. He doesn't share his actual life with me. He doesn't share his dreams anymore. He wishes I was somebody else. It's somewhat humiliating to be in my position. I exhale deeply again... oh well, I exhale in the restrained way one does when it is under 40°F.

So, in order to put another checkmark to the list of attempts to improve our relation –as if it would actually heal something- here I am, suffering under the inclement November weather; trying to reconnect with our beginnings more than with my actual partner. A funny feeling fills my chest. Then a nippy wisp of cold wind made me tremble to the bones and I adjust my coat over my frame.

A couple of minutes later I grumble to myself. It seems that we're wandering aimlessly, without an arranged destination. We haven't decided where we're going to have dinner yet. We had an idea of the play we want to see and - if something – we are vaguely heading for 45th street which is a sign by itself that Arnold isn't quite convinced about the choice. We've stopped momentarily to see a window with vinyl discs and I fix a hollow stare at my own image in the window's reflection while I wait patiently like the good girlfriend I am - that he ends his visual search. Fortunately, in no time we start moving again.

I could hear him humming lightly and then clearing his throat. Here we go. I roll my eyes in a way that only my feet could see, if they'd have eyes of course, and then I prepare myself to what is about to happen in...

5… 4… 3… 2… 1…

'_So, where should we go for dinner?'_

"Where should we go for dinner?" he asks with soft voice and I suppress a sneer.

'_Fucking Mc. Donald's'_ I'd like to yell out but I shrug simply. To us, this is the kind of decisions that can stupidly grow out of proportion, so let's start with limiting the choices.

"What about Italian?" I raise my eyes to find his gentle green orbs fixed on mine. Green, the color of his favorite umbrella. Gentle. He almost convince me if not because that absent minded smile that I'm getting to hate. I let out a slow exhalation.

"Italian…?" he mumbles. "I think there's an Italian restaurant in the 48th and…"

_What-Ever._ I wonder if he already went over there with her. His new crush. Helga Pataki, the girl who used to be crazy in love with him when they were kids; 'used' being the keyword here, of course. I let out a dejected chuckle. _Way to go, Helga!_ _Isn't the sweetest revenge to get him falling in love with you in one of those turns of life?_

Because he's in love with her; that's something that can't be denied, well, other than by Arnold himself of course. It's so fucking infuriating! I don't know if he's in frank denial of if he's trying to drive me crazy. He denies it! He says I'm imaging things; that nothing of that I suppose is an actual fact. Who does he think I am? Blind? God!

I know I should've realized long ago; since the night of the Ball. I was so happy that we found a sponsor so fast that I didn't give importance to the fact that he'd met an old acquaintance. Alright, I realized something was weird, but I never thought 'weird' would escalate this way.

Who would have guessed Arnold would find a job right there? Who would have guessed we'd continue seeing these people in a daily basis? Not me, that's for sure. The same way I'd never guessed Arnold would stop being the nice and caring boy I've known and loved for so long. And that all would happen in the blink of an eye.

I confess I was so excited and overwhelmed with our project and all the work to do: the plans, the implementation, the success and, I clear my throat – _other interests_\- that I failed to see what was right in front of me. Brenda warned me. '_Arnold is acting funny'_ she said. She also told me there was _'something off'_ in the way Arnold had been hired. _'It's a huge enterprise, for God's sake! People don't get hired that easily. Trust me. I don't want to spoil your happiness. I'm only asking you to keep your eyes open.'_

As I learned soon, keeping the eyes open didn't prevent things from happen. If something, it makes more painful to witness the way your partner and you are growing apart with each passing day. It is a relentless and continuous process. One day you appreciate that he leaves you alone because you have more important things to do, and the next he's nowhere to be find. Let's not talk about getting him to lend you a helping hand.

But that's just the beginning. After that you find out that he's absent longer than he used to be. He starts taking solo walks. He stops sharing with you his daily business; work related or not. It's like if he doesn't care about you anymore! Suddenly he starts talking and laughing to himself, and even after you ask him what's so funny he just shrugs you off and keep his silent mood.

And then that's the other thing: his silent moods. It's a whole new personality that makes you question if the actual guy you knew and live with is the same guy from a month ago. Suddenly you're afraid you might be living with a stranger.

Then, as if it weren't enough, come in the events from about fifteen days ago; the day he leaves the house after an argument in which he accuses you that you don't respect his space and privacy anymore, and that he can't live like that. He just goes and you are left to stay in the house and hope he isn't leaving for good.

It's a horrible feeling. Although you've been confused about your feelings for a while, and you've admitted to yourself that your relation might be living its last days, you're not prepared to be faced with the possibility that you're being deserted. It's terrible. The fear, the dread, the anxiety, or whichever that you choose to call it, paralyzes you. It fills you with fear. It made you want to be curled up in your bed, get under in blankets and shun the rest of the world.

You start to think the worst scenarios; for starters you idealize your partner. Then you start to worry; you start to wonder what people are going to say when they knew you were abandoned; then you start to get angry…

Who does he think he is?! He just goes off while you're left to keep waiting? What would he do if it were you the one who leaves? Damn!

Where the hell is he? It's getting late, and it's dangerous outside. You're dreading that the next minute someone is going to call to let you know there had been an accident…. You get curled in bed again; buried under heavy blankets.

But there's also the possibility that he may have gone looking for her and they are now frolicking in her cozy - luscious - golden place; enjoying life, youth and a glass of sweet vermouth as they talk and laugh and remember the good old days; completely oblivious about you and your silly worries. And even when it all starts as an innocent, slightly flirtatious game, we all know how easy is that one thing leads to another and they end up in bed together. You can almost see them, rejoicing in her pink bed, surrounded by sheer white curtains that sway in the tropical breezes blow; the air fills with their moans, cries and the bright light of a beach town…

A loud honk brings me out of my nightmare and I let out a snort. For crying out loud! What kind of pathetic girlfriend am I?! Where -in the whole New York City area - can you find a tropical breeze and _that_ bright light? At this time of the year?

No, I'm mistaken. I exhale loudly by the mouth. I know I'm mistaken. My worst nightmare is unavailing. He might have been gone looking for her, and only God's knew what his intentions were, but I know that even when Helga G. Pataki gives Arnold P. Shortman the time of the day- any time and any day- she's not interested in him in a romantic way simply because she's taken. She's taken; and in what way!

I exhale long thinking what'd be like to be in her position. Would it be a gilded cage? But soon enough my thoughts got drifted again because I start to go back to that fateful evening when he arrived past midnight, humming a chirpy song, and bearing homemade cookies, -signs that anyone would associate to visiting the girl in question, - and if that wasn't enough proof, then he starts to act even stranger.

Now he arrives later than usual; he's always looked up in the bedroom, working on his laptop. When I come in he invariably blocks the screen or plainly closes it. It has not point in asking, he's not going to tell, I've learned that. Where is the boy who used to tell me everything, I can't help but wonder.

I don't know what the hell he promised to… _-Whom?_

Helga G. Pataki? That's my first guess. _Cherchez la femme_, say the French, don't they? But it's too easy…

Dick Mueller maybe? He's working for the guy after all, isn't he? But I know Arnold is not very fond of Dick so it's kinda hard to believe that he's working extra time on his behalf. Still, Dick last name is Mueller, and he might be using his power on him.

Well, those were my thoughts until the- let's call it - The Mercedes's Incident. Last Tuesday Arnold had been taken home in a luxurious Mercedes-Benz's SUV, which brought to my mind the idea that Henry Mueller might be involved…

But Arnold wouldn't share a thing.

Anyway, to this moment, I almost think I've been reduced to a roommate, well, almost, if it weren't because the sex thing. I experience that queasy feeling in my guts again. Why sex is that important? Why can't I deny it, like Brenda keeps suggesting? I grumble to myself but I know the answer.

I'm not 'not-denying' it to him, but to myself. I don't know what happened to me, I was never your typical hormone-fueled teenager girl, never, not even in High School. I used to be 'modest' and 'well-behaved', but I just turned thirty and sex became a compulsion more than a necessity. I can't cheat myself; I've never done. I know what've caused it. I don't know how to get rid of it though, but to tell the truth I don't want it, not yet. Still, sometimes I wonder how longer it'd gonna last.

Arnold calls my attention. We've made it to Silver Theater and there's a line at the ticket booth already. Hesitantly, Arnold leads the way to the end of the line and I follow him. While we're standing there I know he's not in the mood for theatre. I know I'm not in the mood for theatre either but two hours worrying about other people problems sounds better than worrying about ours, seriously, because what if not? What are we gonna do? Keep walking aimlessly under this cold weather? Go to have dinner this early? Go back to home and admit something is definitely wrong with our relation?

The line moves forward. I raise my sight to see his face, and I have to bit my thumb hard to prevent the laugher that threatens to escape my lips. His handsome face shows his misery. I turn around. I should do something – I exhale long- but then I look around and the city scenery is so somber that I just do nothing. We keep moving forward. Geez! I know I'm going to end calling it quits, but I don't seem to be able to find my tongue.

Mustering all my courage I clear my throat and he turns down to see me. "You know-" at the sound of those two words his eyes lighten up. "Maybe we should-"

A ring interrupts me and I blink confused. Arnold apologizes as his hand go inside his coat to draw out his cellphone.

"Hello," he turns around. _Saved by the bell?_ I frown as I take his place in the line that keeps moving forward. We're third in line now. I turn to Arnold who is frowning.

"I understand..." he pauses "Gee, I don't know…" he closes his eyes looking kinda lost "The thing is that I'm not at home right now and… yeah, I can't check my mail." He pauses again and looks at me with a vague expression in his eyes. "I could check it… I have my cellphone with me, but I won't be able to make corrections…" he really sounds apologetic. "What time you said you leave?" another pause "I see."

_I can't believe my ears!_ My hearts starts beating like crazy. I cannot breathe. I know who it is. I know what Arnold means with the look he's giving me; he's almost begging. I don't know how my mind is able to process all these small hints while my senses are under the worst assault they've ever undergone!

"Look, the fact is that I'm out… yeah - my girlfriend yeah - and we're about to get into the… _yeah_," he chortles expressively. My heart has doubled its beats.

There's a pause. Hesitantly I move one position forward as I bit my lip. I try to ignore his eyes as I look to the ticket booth and then to the entrance doors. _Who cares about theatre when-?_

"Feel free to go," I manage to mumble as I step out of the line. Arnold frowns as he turns down to see me again, his eyes show surprise but there's also a hint of hope in there. I should feel offended that he chooses his job over me on a Sunday evening, _but really?!_ Besides, it's all about me in the end, isn't it? Not about him. I'm the one who is about to get what she wants; the chance I've been wanting for so long. My heart is in my throat. I'm sure its beats are visible in the hollow of my neck when I turn up to see him.

"Can you give me a second, please?" Arnold says to the phone and turns to me "What is it? Why did you leave the line?" he asks.

"You're free to go- wherever you need to go." I shrug, pointing to the phone "I don't feel like going to the theatre anyway," I put a face that pretends – to - pretend nonchalance, but add a hint of hurt feelings for good measure.

"Claire, I don't need to be anywhere else but," he trails off because he doesn't know what else to say. "We've planned on spending the whole day together…"

"But they need you now." I step out to the sidewalk, trying to stop being overheard by the people in the line. Arnold trails behind me. "And it's not as if we don't have the rest of the night, isn't it? We'll still have dinner; we'll just skip theater anyway."

He nods wholeheartedly. I chortle to myself. It seems that having to work on a Sunday evening is easier to stomach than spending two hours with me at the theatre. I should feel offended. "It'd only take an hour or two after all."

I nod. I can't blame him. The evening is starting to sound… exciting… for first time. I wonder if 'exciting' is a suitable adjective for what is coming in. I lower my sight to prevent that the playful smile that is starting to form in my lips is seen by him.

"Dick?" he says and my heart skips a beat. I titter nervously without caring if he sees me now. "We'll be there in a few minutes, I hope. It's not necessary. We're actually pretty close to the office…" he pauses "Oh… alright… no, no problem at all, just give me your…" he turns to me and mimic writing "Alright…" I don't know how I did it, but I produced a pen and paper in a second; like magic. '_I was born for this'_. I almost giggle as I write down his address. It's not necessary to write it down actually, since it's one of those things you know you won't forget anytime soon... or ever.

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**I don't own Hey Arnold!**

**I own only the plot and the OC.**

**TMs are meant to illustrate the story.**

**Next chapter it's ten thousand words long and will be here on Thursday.**

**October 24, 2015.**


	26. The Simple Things

**Rocket to the Moon**

**Chapter Twenty Six**

**The Simple Things  
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…

Arnold nods wholeheartedly when I tell him there won't be theatre today. I chortle to myself. It seems that having work on Sunday is easier to stomach than spending two hours at the theatre with me. I should feel offended.

"It'd only take an hour or two after all." He assures me.

I nod. I can't blame him. The evening is starting to sound… exciting… for the first time. I wonder if 'exciting' is a suitable adjective for what is coming in. I lower my sight to prevent that the playful smile that is starting to form in my lips is seen by him.

"Dick?" he says and my heart skips a beat. I smile nervously without caring if he sees me now. "We'll be there in a few minutes…. It's not necessary. We_'_re actually pretty close to the office…" he pauses "Oh… alright… no, no problem at all, just give me your…" he turns to me and mimic writing "Alright…" I don't know how I did it, but I produced a pen and paper in a second; like magic. '_I was born for this'_. I almost giggle as I write down his address. It's not necessary to write it down actually, since it's one of those things you know you won't forget anytime soon... or never.

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. . .

Fifteen minutes later we're standing in front of a small building almost lost between The Plaza and another high structure. I can't believe I'm here! Out of all the places in the city I pictured him living in, I never thought he'd live right here: with Central Park at its doorstep and those beautiful horse carriages just across the street. I've been here a thousand times before and never guessed it! I turn around. The city seems more luminous. Mother Nature is winking down at me, I can feel it. Or maybe it's just that the anticipation makes me see everything with warmer eyes.

Arnold promised in our way up here that he'd make up for this. '_You already did'_ I wanted to say, but just by thinking what he'd say if he'd know all what is going on in my head I feel bad; I feel guilty, really! I think I'm going crazy. But seriously – I think as I smile demurely to the concierge and to an old lady who is going out - I really_ OWE_ Arnold a lot. I know we got the support to 'Eyes for US' because of him. We got to know and deal with all these rich people because of him. I get to know this luxurious and extremely interesting world because of him; and over it all, I owe him that I'm about to meet the man I've been head over heels for since last few months.

Alright, now I need to stay calm and breathe deeply.

We're getting up; they're only six floors. I really think my heart stopped beating… Is everything happening with such unnerving slowness on purpose? Every second seems to take forever. The noises from the elevator, the opening doors, the marble walls that reflect our shadows, the tiled floor that echoes our steps, Arnold's nervousness…

"Why are you so nervous?" I ask him while we're still in the hallway. Arnold had already told me the reason of the haste. Dick is taking a plane at ten o'clock and he needs his help with a contract.

Arnold turns down at me before replying in low voice. "I don't like this rush. It makes me think Dick is moody. Look-" he stops suddenly, taking my arm. "I could as well check the contract tomorrow morning, you know, and send it to him when ready, but-" He hesitates, twisting his lips.

"Dick is fussy?" I offer in sight of his vacillation.

"You don't know the half of it…" he chortles. "He's _obsessive,_" he mouths the last word.

"Shouldn't you have said no, maybe?"

He grumbles. "It's not that easy."

"Why not?"

"Because it'd be worst. If he called me it's because he thinks he really needs my help. " Arnold looks quite uncomfortable, "And believe it or not, the easiest way to get out of this is getting along. It's just that I'm just sorry you got caught into this."

"Don't worry." I say patting his hand. He nods and we start to walk again.

"He might be difficult," Arnold warns, looking sideways at me. I laugh softly, dismissing him.

"He's asking you a favor. He should be thankful, not grumpy."

I hear him mumbling under his breath "I hope you're right."

I also take an intake as he rings the bell. I focus on my breathing as we wait until we heard his footsteps on the other side, and then the door being unlocked in three different spots. Arnold chortles to himself and squeezes my hand just before the door opens revealing our host. I give his hand a squeeze too, but mine is for support. I'm afraid I'll faint if I don't cling to him.

It all happened really quickly. I thought it'd be more like in the movies, when you feel the slow motion, but it's not the case. Before I realize we've been introduced and we're stepping into his place. Leaving formalities behind they start to talk about the matter at hand and I fall behind as they walk down the hall.

I think it's when I started breathing again. I can believe I just shook his hand and he smiled down to me! I can't believe his hand brushed mine when I handed him my coat! Now I'm standing by the entrance of his studio as I observe him from afar while I pretend to be admiring the place. He's really tall; I think as I see his lean frame inclined over the heavy desk where Arnold is sitting at. I've seen him only four times before and I can describe every one of them in detail – once at the Ball and three at the office later, when I was over, but never this close, and never –of course- we'd been introduced properly.

I doubt about staying here. I don't want to impose so I look around with curiosity and then go out to explore the place, caressing the surfaces that I meet on my way. His house is just as I expected it to be; clean, spacious, with high ceilings and refined though –I didn't expect this- austere decoration. Its neutral colored walls and dark hardwood floors contrast with the luminosity of the picture window that covers the entire front wall. As a moth to the flame, I feel attracted to it. I can't believe the sight as I look ahead. Even when it's late fall and it's already dark, you can still make out the few red and yellow colored leaves in the mostly bare trees. The beautiful warm lights of Central Park, the Pond, the Grand Army Plaza and the lively city down there make me sigh. It's not raining anymore and the artificially illuminated skies made me feel that I was meant to see this sight.

Even when I know I can't see them from this spot, I direct my sight to the studio's door anyway. Their voices tell me they are still busy. How long it would take, I wonder; how long do I have. Arnold said it'd be about an hour or so. I sigh deeply. I still can't believe I'm here; in this handsome apartment overlooking Central Park that belongs to no other than Richard T. Mueller. I giggle inwardly. I read his full name on the diploma hanging from his studio's wall. He's a Northwestern University graduate; an Industrial Engineer none the less. That would explain the bunch of fat books and Toyota Production System qualifications all over the place.

I titter again and decide to continue my exploration. I don't really think I'd ever had the chance to do it once again, and definitively, sitting down in the couch and checking my cellphone would be a waste of the opportunity. I bit my lip thinking how much I'd enjoy recounting this entire adventure to Brenda. She'd be green with envy! Oh God, that'll be fun!

.

As I leave my handbag on the couch and walk around the place again I start to focus in the decoration. A beautifully decorated Christmas tree in the left corner is the first thing that calls my attention. I frown because even when it's dark, its lights are off. Just after the tree there's a massive built-in walnut cabinetry surrounding the fireplace that covers one of the walls and that's filled with drawers, a hidden TV and a few decorative figures. Business and car magazines are carefully piled in one of the lower shelves. The rest of the sparse furniture in the room, including sofas and couches, -or the dinner table in the next room - are tucked against the walls, leaving the ample center of the pieces cleared. Everything is so… aligned, neat, symmetrical. Not a coffee table or a carpet messing the center of the room; not an ornament that doesn't match its pair. I frown. The paintings hanging from the walls are kind of somber. A few photographs on top of a corner table call my attention and I walk over to see them: Henry, an old lady that looks like she could be his late wife, another blonde woman who's clearly Dick's mother, and Helga Pataki are in them. I move on but not before smacking Helga's face with my fingertip.

I curse silently. The photo fell over making a loud noise and I hurry to rearrange them. I should know it wasn't that easy to get rid of that blonde witch. I walk to the kitchen then, all covered in dark walnut and white marble, backsplash included. It's spotless; I wonder if someone has ever cooked in here. Over the wall that leads to the kitchen there is a lithograph describing a cute countryside scene. It's the only painting I could relate to. My parents' house in Pennsylvania is full of them.

After a quick check on the bathroom –covered in more of that white marble- I go back to the picture window. The sight should be beautiful at sunlight, I think; in spring, or summer, or...

"Until a few days ago it was a beautiful sight to see, you know?" I close my eyes as a shiver runs through my spine. That voice! "The fall foliage at its best."

"I can only imagine." I utter softly as I turn to see him. He's looking ahead but then turns down and smiles to me. My stomach jumps. Pearl white perfect teeth, thin lips, square jaw, hooded eyes. He's got hard features and the type of an antihero, I know; but I can't help but feel attracted to him. How can he be so sexy when he's not conventionally handsome? I struggle to hide a deep sigh. _Get it together girl! You don't want to frighten him, do you?!_

"When… when is it more handsome- _Pretty! I mean, pretty…_" I quickly correct myself "The sight? I mean…"

"Pretty?" He arches his brow with amusement. I nod mortified. "It's always pretty; even in winter is awesome. However I'd say fall is my personal favorite."

"I think I'd agree. All those yellow and reds…"

"Oranges!" he says expressively "You haven't seen those oranges."

"Yeah, I guess…" I rub my hands together so they stop shaking "You've always lived here?" I ask with shaking voice. _God, help me!_ I need to gather my self-control; I don't want him thinking I'm pathetic.

He doesn't turn to see me this time "It's been a while."

I nod. "I- I was also admiring your Christmas tree," my voice is firmer now - it was about time-. I turn to my left "I was wondering why you haven't turned it on."

He gives a step back so he can walk towards the tree in question without me getting in his way "It's not ready yet," he informs.

"It doesn't?" I ask "It seems pretty ready to me." I also give a step forward. "What is missing?"

He chortles and my lower belly trembles at the deep resound of his laugh. "I actually don't know," what I expect is an adorable frown appears on my forehead when I turn to see him. He looks at me briefly "There is someone in charge; a girl. She just told me it wasn't ready yet." He shrugs his perfect square shoulders.

"You mean you pay so someone else does the job?" I do my best so my voice sounds sexy too.

"The administration does, actually." He states simply as he touches a golden adornment of the tree "This apartment has the most visible window around here and the people in charge of the building take on them the duty to be…" he hesitates "C_hristmassy._"

"So they spare you the job?"

"You can say so." He lets out a lopsided smile.

"Would you do it? I mean, if they didn't?"

As he takes his time to reply I take my time to take him in. I'd really wish I'd have all the time in the world, -or the hope to have him lying beside me some day in a near future- to look at him as long as I wanted, but I know this chance it's almost a miracle. I look at him intently, wanting to keep his image on my retinas for the rest of my life.

Under the warm lighting of the living room I'm able to see that he's just got a haircut. His dirty blonde locks sports a neat, manly cut. Somehow I can't picture him seated at Sally Hershberger salon as he gets his hair done. He's probably more on the line of an old fashioned barber shop. I also see the hint of stubble that tells me he didn't shave this morning. Looking at his dimple chin I wonder how he does to shave it. Does he put a finger at each side and then stretches the skin out so the shaver reaches it? He sweeps it to one side and then to the other? I giggle inwardly just by imagining him shirtless in front of his bathroom's mirror.

As he starts saying something in the order that Christmastime isn't his favorite time of the year I keep my quick-but-exhaustive inspection going on. His brow ridges, mannish hairline and gunmetal blue eyes are magnetic. 'Gunmetal' -lol- is not a word that I just pulled out from thin air, oh no. I googled them, blue eyes, since the moment I first laid my brown eyes on his. There's a whole spectrum of them, do you know? They go from 'Baby blue' –like Henry's-, 'Sky blue' –like the ones of Stan Wright-, or Gunmetal blue, -like Dick or... Helga's; my lips crumple with annoyance. Anyway, I could keep talking for hours about the issue, but I really need to go on for the sake of the Talk of the Century I'll soon be having with Brenda.

Alright, what else, since the clock is ticking off and his speech ending? Did I mention his Adam apple? The old scarring on his right temple? The million freckles that fill his cheeks and cheekbones? Not a million, but fifty thousand is a good number… mmmm, all right… three, four- maybe five hundred of them scattered all over his face. I volunteer to count them up if he's ever interested on keep track; promise.

When I react he's looking at me in a weird way. "What's so funny?" he asks.

"Sorry," I wipe what I assume was a goofy smile from my face, "I know what you say. Thinking back to my own family, not all Christmas were merry. There were sad times, losses, fights…"

"Meanness, poverty…. It's all a symbolism." He scoffs. A deep frown appears on his forehead and I can't help but feel intimidated "Have you ever thought about all those children who have nothing, not even hope, let alone a tree or presents? Who are forced to think they are the ones who are wrong because Christmas is supposed to be a 'giving' time even when no one is 'giving' on them?"

"Yeah; it seems to be all about happy families, I know. It's hard." I snort softly "Fortunately we weren't amongst them."

His eyes search my face up and down.

"Fortunately," he nods, dryly.

Something about this sudden coldness makes me wonder if I've been rude without realizing. I think hard about what it could be. I suppose for now I should better apologize "I don't mean it in a bad way; I mean…" I pause "It's a good thing that we both had caring parents; each one on their own way and - means. I wouldn't dare to compare my situation to yours, of course, but-"

"But you sympathize?"

"Well, yeah, of course, yeah."

"That's what's important." He states unceremoniously "Then I guess you agree with what I said?" He's looking at me with suspicion and I get nervous. Is he testing me? Does he know that I didn't listen to all what he said because I was actually checking him out?

"Yeah. I mean, of course this isn't something that I think about all the time ; I mean it's hurting. Sometimes we just choose to close our eyes, but of course I know there's poverty, negligence, violence, cruelty… and it's particularly mean at this time of the year." I take an intake and then slower my speech "When you think this way it's so easy to see the vainness, the hollowness of all the commercialism associated with Christmas, as you just said."

"It angers," there's something resembling hate in his voice, and I start feeling distressed.

"It's sad, I agree; but I also think it's my Christmas time after all; and I think I owe to myself and to the people I love to show that I care."

"By buying Christmas presents to them all." It wasn't a question. I frown. He gives a curt nod and smile scathingly. This conversation isn't what I was looking forward. His sharpness is starting to get to my nerves.

"I think I choose to think of them as a token of my affection." I swallow hard.

"Alright, maybe to your parents or your boyfriend; but what about to those people you barely know? Annoying people, despicable coworkers, your Secret Santa?"

I don't know how to feel by the fact that he's not hiding his self-righteous smirk anymore.

"It's a social conventionality..."

"That you follow blindly despite you said you sympathize…"

"You can't just keep yourself from everything!"

"From what exactly? Walking from a store to the next, buying last minute presents, paying for beautiful wrapping paper that will become garbage the very next day?"

"Come on," I snort "Don't tell me you don't do it?" He shrugs his shoulders with an arrogant indifference "Never? – I mean, not even to your loved ones?"

"A gift card when I can't really help it."

"A gift card?!" I can't help but show my astonishment.

"That way they know what to expect from me. I don't like when people get their hopes up over nothing." He says with disdain "Whose life has trully changed because of a Christmas present?"

"Well, I can't say right now whose life has really changed but I'm sure there had been Christmas presents that…" he smiles condescendingly. Something hot is stirring inside my chest and it's not lust. I can't believe what I hear. Even when I'm pretty sure I'll never be one of the people he cares about, I can't help but feel aggravated. "You never feel the impulse to give something, like a present?" I can't help that it goes out sounding like an accusation.

"Of course I do. That's what exactly makes them special. It's a big difference when you feel like giving something from when a social conventionalism tells you to do it on a certain date."

"I can't believe that I man in your position could do that."

He snorts and I turn up to see a wicked smile that suits him incredibly well.

"You'd never believe what a man in my position is allowed to do."

"Oh really?" I jut out my chin in a challenging way. I see the gap in his discourse that could become his perdition if I play my cards right. I don't know why but I feel I'd be happy if I could wipe that self-righteous smirk from his face. "How this … _decadence_… copes with your previous discourse against the exaggerated commercialism of the festivities?"

He shrugs his shoulders with disinterest as he turns to see his watch

"It doesn't."

My next biting commentary was ready to get out but his impassiveness freezes me "W-what?"

"It doesn't; by any means." I feel this sudden impulse to slap him.

Is he bored?

"You just said… that I man like you is allowed to do things that are beyond my… _understanding_. And now…"

"It seems that you took it to heart." I see him actually hiding a yawn. I feel disheartened "You'll see, I said I'm allowed; I never said I actually go and do bad, immoral, depraved things, which was what you seemed to be thinking."

"N… no, I …" I hesitate mortified, but he just goes on ignoring me.

"Maybe I wasn't even talking about amoral things in fact. Maybe I was talking about good deeds that a person like me is also allowed to do, but your girly anxious mind ran up to prejudiced conclusions." He shrugs again "I don't know what makes a nice girl like yourself go and think such things, miss…?" he leans slightly forward.

"M… Miller…" I make a pause. I don't know what came onto me at that right moment that made me speak without thinking, – probably the feeling that I had nothing to lose mixed with whatever the hell that had happened in the last minute - but before I had time to correct myself, I find my lips uttering - "though I wouldn't mind if it changed to Mueller," - with the most natural voice I'm able to compose.

"Ha!" he chuckles. His eyes shine with amusement and a hint of… something that I'm not able to point out.

I'm too busy trying to hide my embarrassment to interpret his thoughts. Oh, my god! I feel so ashamed! Did I just say aloud something that suggested marriage between us and _he laughed at me?!_ He laughed at my blunt and stupid attempt at flirting?! God, what was I thinking?!

He kept that peculiar expression on his face as I'm sure my face has turned beet red. In order to think of anything else but what I just said, I turn down to see my clothes. I moan to myself; I regret having chosen dark jeans, a rather simple blouse and a pair of black flats. They are Nine West and all, but... I pout; that's it, no accessories, not even a watch. Still, I wish he'd look down to see me; I'm not half bad after all, but he wouldn't. He's looking at my face. If he's checked me out he didn't do it openly.

"Would you like something to drink?" he surprises me with his sudden question. "I should have asked earlier, sorry." His expression is neutral now; as if nothing major has happened.

I vacillate. Water, coffee, tea, a beer, whisky, tequila...?_ Why am I looking for the most complicated thing to ask for?! _Despite everything I'm feeling daring. Possibly is because I still want to cause an impression. _You just flirted with the guy, for God's sake! _My mind shouts_. That should tell you tons of what you didn't know about yourself._

"Hot cocoa?" I bit my lip. It seems that I actually startled him "Would that be possible? It's cold and I'm not that into coffee."

_Liar, _my mind shouts again but I just ignore it.

He grimaces and turns around "Truth is that I don't have idea." He heads for the kitchen. Well, he's doing his part: acting as if nothing. It means he's not angry, at least. I follow him smiling like an idiot now that he's giving me his back. This is exactly the part I was missing; checking him out from behind.

He's wearing a pair of Wranglers that perfectly fit those 36 inch length of blue denim on his long toned legs; unlike others -I snort to myself turning briefly towards the studio-. No kidding! His legs are remarkable even when he's wearing those business suits he uses to wear at work, but jeans are something else. Jeans allow you to appreciate actual shapes -_and buns too_\- as Brenda would say. I fight back a giggle. As he's moving, stretching up and down the kitchen looking for cocoa powder I confirm our (Brenda and mine) suspicions. He's toned despite he doesn't seem the gym type. He's lean, fairly well-built but no muscular. Somehow it seems that his well-formed muscles came from genetics, from walking, or jogging if so, but no from spending long hours at the gym working on them.

"Here you are!" He finally places the cocoa powder on the counter "I knew I'd seen it somewhere."

"I see that you have a well-equipped kitchen." I chirp "My mother would kill for something like this."

He smiles politely and then frowns. "We need a saucepan." Before I get ready he bends over and takes my breath away….

_Oh, glory of glories! Oh heavenly testament to the eternal majesty of God's creation._

"Holy Macaroni!"

My hand goes up to cover my mouth for a split second. What the hell I just said?! He straightens hastily. I already put my hands together in front of me and feign excitement as he turns around to see me.

"What did you say?!"

His frown is threatening. Oh God! I swallow hard. Blame my death on Homer Simpson.

"Sorry if I startled you." I'm not looking at him but at the cupboard behind him "I just got surprised that you have macaroni and cheese in here. See!" I gesture towards the cabinet where a few packets of the always dependable Kraft's Macaroni and Cheese show themselves.

I plead to God that he buys it. He seems confused for a second as he looks at the packages, and then turns to me. To say that the look in his blue eyes is only hostile is a fantasy.

"Do you want macaroni and cheese?" and his voice has turned to ice.

"No, no…. I guess… I guess it's just what you said before. I… we… we use to…" I vacillate. What if I made him angry? Arnold would never forgive me. "I guess we assume wrong things about people like you, like you said." I shrug "Like you having gourmet dinners all the time and… you know…" I let out an apologetic smile. "Sorry about that."

"Look-" He's boiling with rage, but right then Arnold's footsteps can be heard at the studio. He turns around and leaves without uttering another word.

I thank God._ What the hell is happening to me! _My hands are shaking as I fill the saucepan with water and put it on the stove. I scold myself. I can't believe it! What have I become? Did I just blurted out 'Holy Macaroni!' when his buttocks were within my reach? But then, - would anyone blame me? My God! I know he's furious. I won't survive the evening. I'm afraid he's gonna tell Arnold. Oh, God! This is no good. Arnold would never believe him because I'm a nice girl after all, but then what?

Who get me into these problems? I curse Brenda aloud. It's her fault after all. I didn't even like Dick Mueller at the beginning. He actually frightened me the first time I saw him: all shady and lugubrious; a storm waiting to happen. But then, she started to talk about him as if he was some kind of demigod and she never ended; and I started to pay attention. Next time I saw him I couldn't help but fall flat. Dick was poison.

As I put the cocoa powder into the saucepan I start to get calm. For much that I hate to hear men (or people in general) being sexist, I think I could do nothing to stop ourselves, even when I'd never say it aloud. From time to time, women lose our minds. You can argue that I'm stupid –not the case-, that I'm misogynist –I would never-, that I'm betraying my gender –not in a million years-, but sometimes it happens to us: girls just go wacky. Our senses explode, we see world through love-colored glasses, we can't keep our excitement at bay, and even our decorum disappears. We fall madly in love. We obsess. The object of our affections – God protect us- uses to be someone way out of our league; and actor or singer, an athlete, a public figure. How else you explain the craziness surrounding people like Justin Beaver, Two Direction, Jones Brothers, Backstreet Kids, or the initiators of this flock: The Beetles?

I also don't know what triggers it. Hormones, love, heat, lust, _stupidity?_ Whatever. You can't stop it; it's a force of nature. All our love is lying right there just for someone to take it. It happened to me once when I was a teenager. I fell in love with Legolas aka Orlando Bloom. I read all the books; I bought the director's edition of each movie; I learned his biography; I went to investigate the place where he was born, both: in the Middle Earth and in Canterbury, England; the place where he grew up; the school he attended to; everything, I learned everything about him. I thought of him all the time, I spent hours looking into his warm brown eyes on my computer screen; I swore he was the most exceptional human being in the entire world; I knew that at a given evening he was going to come looking for me and we'd be happily ever after…

Was I a basket case or what? Sadly I wasn't. I sigh as I turn off the burner. My hot cocoa smells delicious. As I look around for mugs I admit that it has happened again, just that this time I didn't fall in love with an artist. I fell in love with a real guy but even so, this real guy was someone who I never thought I could actually meet - and deal with.

I guess that's why I'm acting this way. It's like when you run up an artist and do crazy things just so he notices your presence. But now I don't know what would happen next. I already did crazy things; I already acted in a certain way. I set a path; I can't go back now. Do I really want something else to happen? If it happen? Should I push further? Is this one of those opportunities that people say happen just once in your life? Should I go for it? Should I let it go?

My Goodness! I don't know what to do. I realize my hands are cold; I am trembling. I pour the beverage into three mugs and I take one in my hands to have a sip. The sweet hot liquid warms me; I close my eyes and smile. A couple of sips later I'm certainly feeling better. I should forget about the whole thing; say nothing and act as if nothing. I open my eyes feeling almost relaxed. Then I frown at the sight of the container that lies on the counter before me. It's me, or it's the same kind of container Arnold brought home a few days ago. I open it and took a piece. It contains the same kind of biscuits we had for breakfast the next few days. Does that mean it was a present from Dick? Somewhat I don't think so. Arnold didn't know Dick's address until now, right? Does that mean then, that-

"What are you doing?" a shiver runs through my body and my hands shake. Some cocoa spills on the counter. Sheesh, I didn't hear him coming. I've been hoping he'd forget he was angry with me but his voice says otherwise. I take my time to turn around and face him. "Are you playing house?" I feel cold inside. There's an expression of utter repulsion on his face as his eyes sweep the scene that I had to swallow hard. I'm drinking his cocoa; I'm taking his cookies without permission; I'm taking possession of his kitchen…

Leaving the mug on the table I want to ask about Arnold but I just can't utter a word. It seems I'm not even able to clear my throat. Something inside me tells me I should run away, leave the place but I'm almost paralyzed. I've never been so humiliated in my entire life and the worst thing is that I can't even move. His hard stare is fixed on me. Only god knows what he is thinking.

"You're enjoying this, right? To the very last drop," he says with a low tone that makes me jump off my skin and the hair of the back of her neck stand on end. "Taking advantage of the smallest slice of power that reaches your hands, huh? That's who you are. Strange. Because when I first saw you I thought you were this mousy, insignificant girl whose daddy told her that if she behaved she'd be forever his little princess." He says with scorn "What happened? Life in Disney Castle is boring, huh? Prince Charming is not what they promise?"

I'm frozen. Dick walks to the door probably to see if Arnold is still working in the other room while I try to pull myself together, but it just appears to be an impossible task. I'm a mess, I'm frozen, and I'm excited. Incredibly I think this is the most exciting thing that had happened in my entire life.

"What is it? Did you really expect me to feel flattered? Do you think I'm gonna make a move?" he laughs viciously. "Before you start fantasizing let me tell you that nobody comes to my house to have fun at my expense, did you hear?" his voice turns threatening "Look what's going to happen here. You're finishing your fucking coffee and are going to leave me alone for the rest of the evening. Are we clear?"

My eyes are on the counter as I nod tightly. "Can I take Arnold some hot cocoa?" I just want to leave. The look he gives me is one of pure disrespect.

"Yeah. Go ahead, Show him how much you care." He snorts "Poor Arnold. Some loving girlfriend you must be."

That stings. I'm not that worthless, I want to shout at him.

"Do you think he's perfect?" I say instead, biting. I can be derisive too. He's about to leave the room but then stops briefly; probably out of manners only. "He doesn't care anymore. A few months ago he reunited an old flame from grade school and…"

"Looks like I care? Seriously girl! Why don't you go and get yourself a best friend so you have someone who actually listens to you?"

"I have a best friend already-!" I cry out. The bell rings at that precise moment and he doesn't stop this time; he leaves me alone. I curse him. What kind of pathetic human being he thinks I am? I walk up and down the kitchen. I don't know why I'm taking his disdain this intensely. I am tempted to follow him but then I stop dead in my tracks. A giggle followed by a sultry voice made me leave the room and stop to stand akimbo in the middle of the hall. A beautiful girl has her arms circling around his neck and is kissing him.

"Why haven't you called me?" she mumbles between her kisses "Now I need to show up unexpectedly so I can get a hold of you, huh?"

Dick disentangles himself from her arms curtly "We have company," he informs coldly as he points towards me "What are you doing here anyway?" he asks in low voice.

But he doesn't get an answer. The girl had turns to me with a hateful look in her eyes. She looks contemptuously at me "Who's this?" she asks, her voice demanding.

"Miss Miller… Regina Brennan." Dick says without masking his impatience. It surprises me that he's able to show manners in such unwelcome situation. Looking briefly at me he adds "Miss Miller is my lawyer's girlfriend, Regina. He's in the studio, helping me out with some paperwork." He raises his hands and looks at her with insolence. "As you see, we're busy. If you'd have called you wouldn't be losing your time-"

"Oh, no problem. I can wait."

"No, you can't. But I guess you'll do as you please. Now, if you excuse me." He turns around.

"Aren't you going to offer me a drink at least?" Regina asks.

Without turning back he replies. "Coffee's in the kitchen. I bet you won't have problem finding the rest of the stuff."

"Coffee?" Regina snorts before turning to me to give me what seems to be a friendlier look.

I nod, taking it as her silent excuse. She doesn't see me as a rival anymore I guess. I wonder what she'd think if she'd know that I actually tried to hit on her, um, b_oyfriend_? I raise a brow to myself. Arnold has already talked about her. She's the daughter of the second major investor of the firm, and the closest thing to a girlfriend Dick actually has, according to the guys who traveled with him to India.

"I just made some hot cocoa." I utter, deciding to be friendly too "Needed to keep me occupied while I waited."

"They forget to keep track of the time when they work, don't they?" she smiles.

"I suppose so," I reply. "So?" I ask, pointing to the kitchen.

"Nope," she smiles condescendingly "I think I need a real drink." She throws her handbag onto the couch and walks placidly towards a cabinet. "Do you want something?" she turns around to ask me.

"No, thank you" I shake my head no.

I check her out as she seems to be looking for something specific amongst the inventory of bottles that are in there. She's about my height, downright skinny, and has straight dark hair that falls to her shoulders. She's dressed to the nines, of course, and had perfect smoky eyes. She's stunning in a way that only rich people could be. Like a brunette Paris Hilton.

I go to pick my drink from the kitchen and come back; taking the seat that is closer to the frontal window. Regina is moving an antique expensive-looking globe from its former spot tucked against the wall, to the center of the piece. When she's done she looks at my mug and smiles somewhat tenderly.

"You make me recall my grandmother, you know…" she laughs softly as she walks to stand in front of the window and looks outside "No offense. She also loves chocolate."

"None taken" I smile. "I guess we inherit the habits from them, don't you think, mothers, grandmothers?"

"Yeah, you're probably right." She says as she shakes slightly her red drink in the air "I wonder what mothers in Florida pass on to their daughters."

"I don't know." I hesitate. I decide to play dumb. "Orange juice?" I open big my round innocent eyes.

"You're too much!" She laughs softly again and then turns to the studio door. I snort. She fell for it. Hook, line and sinker! I follow her sight "What's so important to have them working on Sunday?" she's frowning when she turns to me.

"He's taking a plane tonight." I shrug my shoulders.

"Your boyfriend - or Dick?" she frowns.

"Dick."

"Tonight?" She grumbles, walking to the cabinet to pour more wine into her glass "Where to? Do you know?"

I pause "I think I heard Winnipeg."

"Canada?" her eyes brighten "Oh! It won't take long, then." She says as for herself. She remains silent for a while and then she turns to me and complains "He's never here, you know? And when he does, he's always at work. He's pretty much a workaholic."

I let out an understanding smile "I guess it's hard for you."

"You don't have idea. I never get to see him lately." She puffs and takes a seat at the end of the sofa. "Does you boyfriend travel for work too?"

I shook my head after taking another sip of my drink.

"Not as much as yours, I guess."

She rolls her eyes. I notice that she doesn't deny my affirmation. So she's his girlfriend.

… Or at least she considers herself his girlfriend.

"That's a beautiful globe." I say as I point the item she placed in the middle of the room.

"It is, doesn't it? Father bought it as a present for him at a Sotheby's auction." She informs, beaming. "If he knew Dick keeps it tucked against the wall this way I don't know what he'd do! He'd probably come and take it home."

"It's a beautiful piece that deserves to be exposed." I agree with her "Why he does that?" I ask, all ingenuously.

She raises her hands in the air with desperation and grunts in a restrained way "Why indeed?!" she puffs "He's strange; so full of his… little ways." She lowers her voice and turns to the studio with caution.

"Really?" I ask, hiding a smile.

She snorts waving her delicate hand dismissively "I'm telling you!" then gestures all around the place.

"Mmm…. I guess I understand you." I add after taking a second look around.

"Really?" she looks at me fixedly "Why? Your boyfriend is also like that?" she raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow.

"Well, he does love pink." I smile awkwardly as she gives me a pointed look "Half of our decoration is pink: walls, drapes, cushions. I mean bold pink." She frowns at me, unbelieving "He's the frigging Pink Panther!" I crack a laugh and she mimics me.

"Oh, my God! I have never heard something like that!" she shakes her head and takes another sip "He has his good side, I guess?"

"Yeah. He's really nice and caring." I grin fondly "Loving and supporting."

"Sounds like a keeper." She says with a cheeky smile. I wonder if she's being sarcastic.

"Why? Isn't Dick like that?"

"He has his good side, of course," she exhales through the nose "but he can also be really annoying."

"Annoying?" I repeat, raising a brow. "Really?" I wonder what she is drinking because, seriously, even when it's obvious she isn't 'the sharpest tool in the shed' I don't think she's naïve either, not in the least.

"You know how it is. He's always criticizing, judging people, expressing corrosive opinions about everything…" she suddenly blinks, probably realizing what she just said "Although, he can also turn into the nicest guy around all of a sudden. That's what's so great about him."

"He makes you forget about his annoying side."

"You can say so." She hums affirmatively.

"And…" I let out a giggle "is he good in bed?"

"Look that you're curious," Regina looks briefly at me with half smile "But as a matter of fact, he is." She leans her head languidly on the back of the couch and closes her eyes. "Don't make me think of that-" she moans huskily "because I'd have to follow him to Canada and he wouldn't like it."

"He wouldn't like it?" I repeat without missing a beat. She nods "Why?" whatever she's drinking, I hope it also made her to forget about this inquiring later.

"He hates that I tag along when he travels."

"Why?"

"He says I can be a real pain in the ass." She rolls her eyes "Can you believe it?"

"You seem pretty nice to me."

"That's what everybody says." She snorts. "Everybody likes me!" Taking a last sip she gets up. She hides a slight stagger before start walking. "I need to use the bathroom," she says graciously before walking to the end of the hall and disappearing behind a door.

I frown. Someone had already had a couple of drinks before coming here, I bet. I get up and walk to the kitchen to wash my mug. Seeing the saucepan in there I remember I was supposed to take Arnold a cup of hot cocoa. I turn the stove on and I wash the mugs and spoons as I wait. I hear steps behind me and I turn to see our host walking towards me. He places Regina's empty glass in the sink.

"Where is she?" it doesn't sound as a question but as a demand.

"Bathroom," I pause "I guess she's using the one in your bedroom."

"What?!" he barks, looking at me as if all was my fault.

"As if I could have stopped her," I snort; then I point to the door where the girl has disappeared. Dick curses under his breath and leaves. This is exactly what I needed! Taking care of his drunken girlfriends. Maybe it's him who should get himself a bestie.

The cocoa is hot. I pour some into a mug and leave the kitchen. I reach the hall and realize Dick had already placed the globe in its previous place. I can help but smirk. I guess all men have their annoying oddities.

I take some extra steps to stand by his bedroom's door expecting to hear a heated discussion but I'm only able to hear what seems to be a civil interchange. I go on and find Arnold at the edge of his seat with his sight glued to the screen of a Dell laptop. Poor boy! This visit has meant to him nothing else but legalese. _If you only knew that life is what exists outside of that strange language that only you understand and that's so hard to comprehend, my dear boyfriend! _

"I brought some hot cocoa for you, love." I say to him leaving the mug by his side and walking to stand behind him. I kiss the top of his head.

"Thank you, honey." He replies automatically as he corrects a phrase in the Word document he's working at. When he's done he turns up and smiles at me.

"How are you doing?" I ask as he leans back and starts drinking.

"I'm checking it for the last time before send it to the printer."

"Was it hard?" I massage his shoulders.

"The usual,"

"Good."

I hear the other couple leaving the bedroom and walking to the hall.

"Are you bored?" Arnold asks as he continues scrolling down the document.

"No" I shake my head "I'm good. I'm just worried about you. Are you okay?" I lean to speak lowly against his earlobe. "How's Dick acting by the way? Is he the pain in the ass that you expected him to be?"

"Nope; not at all," he turns again and his green eyes smile "He's being really nice." He says in low voice as he turns to the door "The nicest I've ever seen him."

"I told you." I kiss his head again and walk to stop by the door. For a moment I fear I'd hear the sounds of a passionate encounter between the others but they are only talking. Their voices even had a normal volume, what means not mumbling. They are not in sight so they must be by the dinner room.

"… I mean, blue looks great on you." Regina is saying. "It stands out your eyes."

He lets out a snort "Then why you never told me before?"

"I thought you already knew." She states matter-of-factly "I mean, if you didn't then why you have your entire wardrobe renewed, huh?"

He lets out a hum that sounds like a grumble. "I didn't. I only bought some shirts. I don't know what's the big deal."

"Some shirts and a stunning blue dress, so I saw." the girl's voice turns harsh. He doesn't answer and a few seconds later she insists, grumpily. "Dick! There's a blue dress in your closet and it's obvious it doesn't belong to you!"

He lets out a tired groan "Here we go again."

"You're still seeing that girl?" her voice sounds dejected.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Come on! What's her name? Eva? I don't think that dress it's her, though. It's not her size; wouldn't cover her…um… _charms_."

"That's why you went in there?" Dick's voice is harsh "To check my closet? You have no right to check my closet!?"

"I went in to look for my earring." She grumbles "Did you find it? Oh, tell me you found it!"

"Your earring?!" he scoffs callously "You're still looking for that thing? That was when? Like a year ago or something?" he laughs. The girl complains noisily. "Maybe you should have looked for it in someone else's bedroom because you didn't lose it in here."

"How fun!" she curses him "I know I left it in here!" she exclaims. I smile impishly to myself. I turn to Arnold but he's still concentrated in his work. "Maybe the girl that comes to do the cleaning found it and kept it to herself."

"Oh, really?" Dick snorts. "Why she'd do that?"

"Because it was made of diamonds and pearls." She explains.

"Lupita would never do that."

_"Lupita would never do that!"_ Regina mimics him. "I don't know what that girl has given to you. Some filthy potion, I'm sure."

"Don't be ridiculous!"

"I'm not ridiculous. She's…"

"Regina!" he says warningly. "Stop it! You're making a fool of yourself."

"Yeah! Sure! That girl is a witch!"

"I don't want to hear it!" Dick is starting to sound impatient "Why did you come here in the first place?"

Regina exhales without trying to hide her annoyance "I already told you. I wanted to see you."

"Right," he snorts with disbelief. "All of a sudden you realized you wanted to see me? After all this time-"

"Oh, no! You're not blaming me on this! If we haven't seen each other lately is because you're always unreachable. And when I actually get a hold of you, you always say that you have some work to do."

"Well, in case you've forgotten, I'm a man with responsiblities. There is always work to do."

"But you're busy all of the time!" she grumbles.

"And you don't complain when you receive your check, do you?" he retorts right away.

"Well…" she trails off. "I'm not saying that I don't appreciate your efforts." She utters lowly. Dick hums with sarcasm "Anyway, but I'm here now and I just heard you're leaving tonight. I want to go with you this time."

"That's not open to discussion."

"Come on!" she pleads in low voice. I inch closer. Even if I gave a step out of the studio door I know they won't be able to see me.

"We've already talked about that."

"It's only Canada" she insists.

"No." his answer is blunt. "You don't understand. You think I go to have fun. I can't believe that after all these years you still have no idea how it is."

"I promise I won't distract you. I won't be a burden."

"No. Excuse me but I can't believe you."

"Come on, hun; I promise." The girl whines "Besides, it'll be only a few days, right? I mean, Thanksgiving falls on Thursday. You won't be working on Thursday, will you?"

"I'll be at home on Thursday," he informs casually.

"At home?" she asks with disappointment "You mean Dakota?" He hums in affirmation "You can't go to Dakota!" she complains "Come on, Dick! Why would you want to be in Dakota for Thanksgiving?!"

It surprises me to hear that Dick laughs in good mood "Are you really asking me that?"

"No, I mean, I understand that you want to see your mom, but…" the girls seem lost for words.

"But-?"

"Why don't you ask Darleen to come here? Hey! In fact why don't you ask her to move? New York is a great place to live. I'm sure she'd love in here. I wonder why she never moved – like Mother or Helga did. They never wanted to hear a word about moving back."

"What makes you think that I want her in here?" his voice is still playful. "Come on girl! Give me a break!"

The girl pushes him. "Don't be mean! It's your mom, for God's sake!"

He continues laughing.

"So… you're spending in North Dakota the entire weekend?" she asks after a while "Dakota is so _BORING_! There's nothing to do over there. Come on, Dick. Ask your mom to come. We can show her around. We can take her to the Hamptons. There will be three major events over the weekend and even you have to admit that-"

"Why I'd want to go to the Hamptons?"

"Your mom would like it! It'd be great! The Vanderbilt will be throwing a party on Friday; and the Lewis-"

"Regina…" his voice sounds serious "You know I don't give a damn about that kind of stuff."

"And what are you going to do in Dakota instead?"

"Not wearing a tuxedo for starters."

"I should have supposed it." She snorts mockingly "I guess you can't wait to put on your jeans, your flannel shirts, your rugged boots, and then head for the-" then she stops suddenly and cracks a laugh "Oh, my God! You're really looking forward to be there, right? You're already wearing your… outdoorsy outfit-" she laughs again. "Let me see. Are you wearing a flannel under that nice sweater?" the sound of hands moving, her playful giggling and Dick complains can be heard. "I knew it!" she laughs again.

"Regina! Stop! I warn you!"

"There, there! Alright. Have you planned out your weekend already? What would you do? Go fishing? Hunting?" she sneers "I don't know why you choose that stuff over going to the Hamptons!"

"You already know me." he stands up and I retreat into the studio again. I observe his books in case he's coming in. I turn to Arnold who's paying me no attention. I turn to the door; seems that he is not coming.

"Yeah, I do. It's almost twenty years now." I can hear Regina deep exhalation "And I think I know exactly what are you going to do up there. Let's see: you're taking your truck out and are going to hit the road as soon as you put your feet in there. Darleen won't have time to give you her blessing when you'll already be a hundred miles away chasing fish down in some creek."

"Glad to see that you still know me."

"You'll never change." She pauses "Though I still hope that someday you'll acquire a taste for more, um, _sophisticated_ entertainment."

"You really have that kind of hope?" he mocks her. The girl hums.

"Nope; not anymore, to tell the truth." She says with resignation "You'll be forever the same boy who loves hiking and driving and singing-" she makes a pause "I'm sure you still love your same old songs, right? How did it go? The one of the onion rings?"

"I can't believe you remember." He says; hint of nostalgia in his voice. I contain my breath as I hear Dick clearing his throat before starting to intone an old song; the one-hit-wonder of a Vietnamese guy singing country that I can't believe I also know the lyrics by heart.

_"I've got the summer breeze, got sixteen cans of 'beers'__  
__A two-speed window fan when it's ninety-three degrees__  
__So forgive me for not grabbin' your brass ring;__  
__It's crystal clear I'll stay right here and keep the simple things"_

I can't help but let out a goofy smile. I blink as I hear their voices again.

"Right! Excuse me if I find it hard to believe." Regina had been following the tune with a hum on her own, but then lets out a sonorous laugh. I'm surprised to realize the guy sings pretty well though. "Especially when I've seen you devouring miles in that monster truck of yours."

"Hey! She's not a monster truck. She's a Raptor." He complains playfully. I have to admit that they seem to be having fun. I find myself feeling jealousy. I'd like to share with him moments like this.

"A Raptor?! Oh God! It has the name of an extinct dinosaur." She chortles. Dick grumbles. Then she slurs something that I can't quite get and Dick complains.

"Regina, your breath stinks," he says in low voice but I'm still able to hear it "Do you really need to drink that much?" his voice is harsh "Have you had any actual food today? Don't lie to me."

"I…um" the girl trails off.

"Come on. Get up. I can make you a sandwich." There're noises when they get up and move around "Conchita sent me some of her cookies yesterday. Do you want some?" I frown because his voice sounds worried.

"Oh, Dick, I know you have to go in a few hours, but let's go to have dinner at least, huh?" the girl almost begs.

"Easy!" he says mockingly "Just let me call the airline so they put the delay tag on the flight just because I'm going to take you out to dinner."

"Come on, Dick, You don't have to be rude!" she complains "Besides, I'm not asking anything fancy; a burger joint or anything."

"And you're gonna eat a burger, for real?"

"You'll have to wait and see." She smiles up to him.

"Fine. Once we finish we'll go out to have dinner, okay?" she hums affirmatively "Alright, then go and refresh your face or something while I check how's Arnold doing."

I hurry to Arnold' side and grab his empty mug. Poor Arnold; he hasn't been aware of anything of what's happening in here. Sometimes I can't believe how he lives his life with such simplicity.

"Do you want more?" I ask him.

"No, thank you" he says as he stands up and stretches out his limbs. "I think I'm ready to print it," he walks over to the printer's table and turns it on.

Dick comes in right at that moment.

"How are you doing?" he asks.

"Finished." Arnold smirks "Do you want to check it on the screen or do I print it first?"

"Let's check it first" Dick says as they both walk to the desk.

I leave the room and walk to the kitchen. I find Regina in there. She has an ethereal beauty around her that I can't help but envy. She smiles at me and says that I shouldn't worry about the dishes; that even when Dick's going out 'Lupita comes and takes care of them.' She says with a sneer.

I also feel sorry for her. She doesn't have it easy either. Being the rich girl she is and possessing the beauty and elegance she does, she still seems to be unable to catch him. She'd been unable to do it for almost twenty years, as she just said. What hope is left in there for a girl like me then, I can't help but think.

Then I realize I don't regret having been so blunt earlier. Although I had to admit that I didn't get anything from it. If something, I gained his contempt.

Still, I can't help but appreciate the fact that at least he'll remember me longer than he had if I had been the nice girl everybody thinks I am. That's something. I still could dream that if we run into each other in the future and our situations are different, we might be able to manage out something.

Soon enough the guys are done and the four of us manage to have a small talk before heading out. The thing I'll remember forever is that Dick somewhat steers the conversation to a point where he's able to declare how despicable the girls who disrespect their couples are. I see Regina cringing and it feels somehow comforting to know that I'm not the only sinner. Completely unaware of the ulterior meaning, Arnold adds his two cents by saying that it isn't an only-girl issue, because men also do that, to what Dick decides to turn a deaf ear.

When Regina takes her phone to ask for her car we know it's our cue. Dick thanks Arnold sincerely and we finally leave the place. I know I'm going to miss in here, I think as we wait for the elevator and during our way down. It'd be so easy to get accustomed to this fancy world. I let out a long exhalation as we leave the building and step into the cold. It's starting to rain again; I snort to myself. Real world is welcoming us back.

"Where to?" Arnold asks as we reach the edge of the sidewalk. All the taxis in sight are already taken. We move on, walking to the other corner, away from The Plaza since there's a crowd in there.

"I don't know," I say as I keep moving in my place to keep me warm. I know I need a few minutes to regain my old self; to come back from the dreamy place where I got lost for the last – I turn to see my cellphone – one hour and a forty-five minutes. My God! It felt like an eternity!

Arnold looks over his shoulder and then frowns. I follow his sight. Dick and Regina are leaving the place. They walk side by side. Regina is extending her hand trying to reach his, but Dick hurries leaving her behind. He and a young valet interchange something and then he rounds the car to take the sleek black Mercedes's driver seat. I can't help but smile at the look of the snobbish girl rolling her eyes. The valet is heading for the building entrance, but then he hurries back to open gentlemanly the passenger door for her.

"He's a total ass!" Arnold snorts disapprovingly.

"Yeah, he is." I reply. '_But he's smoking hot!'_ I moan inwardly, biting my lip. I think getting to know him only worsened my sickness. I feel so alive, so excited. I am so turned on. I look at Arnold at my side and I can't help but feel bad. I'm not that cold hearted bitch after all.

"Why he called you Miss Miller?" he asks me with a frown.

"He got my name wrong I guess," I shrug my shoulders with nonchalance. "Why don't we go back home?" I offer, giving him one of my best smiles. I got close to touch his jaw. He didn't shave this morning either and his stubble made me remember someone else's. "We can ask for a pizza and have it in bed while we watch some TV. Just you and me; like the old times, huh?"

His green eyes blink as he looks at me intently. "You're sure it's a good idea?" he asks. "It was supposed to be the perfect date. Nothing turned out as we expected in the end." He ends dejectedly.

"It can still be perfect." I hum as I stand on tiptoes to bite his jaw and push my hips against his. I turn up to see that his eyes are wide open. My voice turns sultry when I add "It could turn out more than perfect."

I giggle as he leans to kiss me and hold me tight against him. God! He has no idea what's coming to him, I think as I moan into his kiss. After all the excitement and the stimulus I've gone through this evening I'm afraid I'll go wild and attack him violently.

Oh,God! I think we won't be able to walk without a limp in the morning.

.

* * *

**Happy Halloween everybody!**

**I don't own Hey Arnold!**

**I own only the plot and the OC.**

**TMs are meant to illustrate the story. **

**I want to publically recognize all the beautiful songs from this series. I love particularly The Simple Things and Smashed, but there are also a lot of them that are just genius: My Last Bow, I Saw your Face and Wow!, Mad Engineer blues and Mad Engineer song, Look Up, HA versions of Carmen and The Valkyries and so many, many others. There's never the chance to Thank Craig Bartlett and the group of genius behind the Hey Arnold Series as it should be. Here it goes my humble recognition. THANK YOU VERY MUCH, GUYS!**

**Also want to thank everybody for being here and especially to Jose Ramiro and Nep2uune for your reviews. Your words keep me going, guys!  
**

_**October 29, 2015**_


	27. Smooching in The Village

**Rocket to the Moon**

**Chapter Twenty Seven**

**Smooching in The Village**

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**AN.** **To this hour I guess everybody already heard or read that Nickelodeon is going to make a new Hey Arnold TV movie.**

** If you want to leave a commentary about your reaction or your thoughts regarding this news please go to the forum "Welcome to Hillwood" to share your impressions. We'll be happy to read everybody opinion.**

**Now let's start...**

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"I told you! We should have left the car at home!" Arnold complained as they drove along the same street for the third time and being still unable to find an empty spot to park. Patient as he usually was, he was getting exasperated.

"Oh, Arnold! We need the car. We don't know what time the party will end. It might be till morning." Claire said heartily as she looked up at the building where the party was being held.

Arnold rolled his eyes "This is New York. We'll be able find a cab at any time." he said dryly.

"Don't be grumpy, honey" She put her hand on upper arm and smiled sweetly "You'll have fun, I promise… and we'll find a place soon, you'll see."

He shook his head. Her nice ways didn't persuade him.

"I'm not going to be the last to leave, you heard?" Arnold announced, throwing her a hard look. Claire smiled smartly. He grumbled to himself.

She was having an early Christmas party with her friends from the volunteering groups and he was accompanying her almost against his will. Maybe he should put more from his part to enjoy the night, but truth was that as of late he couldn't stand her friends anymore.

Several minutes passed and at every time it seemed more improbable that they'd find a goddamned place. Arnold was beside himself.

"What about if I go out to get Jenna and ask her if she…" Claire started when he interrupted her.

"You're not going anywhere, missy!" he warned as he turned down the street for what it felt like the umpteenth time.

"Come on, Arnold!" her lips crumpled.

"If you go I'll just turn around and head back home. Call me when the party is over. I might be in good mood to come and pick you up." He looked at her through the mirror. "It is your party. I didn't even want to come in the first place."

"Don't be like that!" she complained "Come on! You'll see you'll have fun. You know? Andrew's gonna be here? Arthur too."

"Yay! The triple A." Arnold exclaimed with sarcasm. He shook his head. Only because he spent one evening talking to the pair of losers everybody thought they were his party buddies now. He grumbled again. If it was on him he'd rather go party with his coworkers. He chuckled. Even the guys from Operations would be more fun.

They passed once again by the apartment building where the party was held and Claire looked up enthusiastically. She kept saying she wanted to see this and to do that. But overall, Arnold knew she was dying to meet the guy Brenda's been dating lately.

"Do you know that he already wants to take her to meet his parents?"

"Really?" Arnold asked uninterestedly. "That's good. I guess."

"Good?" Claire turned to see him apparently shocked. "Do you think it's a good idea that she meets his parents this soon?"

"Well, you said he's rich and handsome; and being that she's your best friend I suppose you want the best for-"

"Handsome, right!" she puffed out.

Arnold turned to scold her, but then his sight went back to the road. Truth was that he didn't want to hear whatever she was dying to say. He took the same street once again and all of the sudden he stopped the car in mid street and said: "Alright, you can go."

"What?!" she seemed surprised for as long as a second, but then hurried out of the car "You're coming, right?" she asked cautiously as she got out.

"Yeah, as soon as I find a place," he exhaled "but I don't know how long it'd take. I guess there's no point that you also miss the party."

"You sure?" she hesitated, leaning over without closing the door.

"Yeah," he nodded "Now go." He shooed her away when the car behind him honked. "Go."

.

About ten minutes later he was back to the same street. There were no vacant spots and he'd driven a five blocks radius. He cursed in low voice though truth was that he wasn't that angry anymore. He was getting to the end of the block when the rear lights of a parked car turned on and he stopped in mid street, waiting for it to pull out. He didn't care now if he looked like those people he used to despise; those who stubbornly waited for a particular parking spot till it was clear.

Over a minute and several loud honks and middle fingers later, he was parking his beige Camry at the goddamned street. He couldn't believe his luck; finding a place right here, almost in front of the very building that held the party. He checked the surroundings and the other cars parked around before leaving. They were all nice cars. He hoped his car would be safe in here. He was vaguely recalling someone telling him about the safest places to park cars in downtown when his sight fell on the white car parked two places behind his.

It was a white Land Rover SUV whose plates read OL-BTSY. An involuntary chortle left his throat. Then he remembered. It was Helga who told him about parking spaces in The Village and there he thought she was just making small talk. Arnold turned around, recognizing the place. This meant the ice cream parlor they visited the other night was on the next street. He smiled seeing the small park where they played ball all those nights ago, when the old man chased behind them calling them hooligans. So here it was. He smiled as he touched the shiny exterior of the white car as he passed by its side.

That meant she was back in town. Helga had mostly been absent lately. Henry told him she was in 'Hunting Season', which meant she was tracking down buyable companies all around the globe for the upcoming spring season. He could only imagine what her actual work was. Seeing enterprises numbers and trying to read in them projections, prospects and probabilities of success or failure was beyond his understanding, probably the same way that legal terminology was like Korean language to some people.

Letting out a yearning exhalation, Arnold hurried to the party. Could she be in there? He wondered. She had to be. Why other reason could be for her car to be parked right here. It was great. It meant that coming all the way here wouldn't end being a waste for time; that the party would be worth it. He didn't know why he found now this particular type of parties excruciating. He wasn't like that before. There was a time when he enjoyed the humor and camaraderie at those parties, but not anymore.

He wondered if it had to do with the partygoers. Claire's friends were amongst the most insufferable people he'd ever known. '_Let's get over with this'_, he'd been clinging to that thought regarding the gathering, but if Helga was present it would be a completely different panorama. Could it be possible that Jenna or any other of the organizers had invited her?

He reached the fourth floor and got into the place without problem. He greeted some people as he walked down combing the place and looking for her, but after several minutes of fruitless search he came out disheartened. She wasn't here. He should have assumed it. What would be Helga doing with these people especially after having spent almost an entire month out of town? Surely she had more important things to do on a Saturday evening. Suddenly he blinked. Maybe she was at the ice cream parlor. Or strolling nearby. Why it didn't occur to him before coming up, he berated himself. He looked around until he located a window with a sight to the street below. It was behind the snack table. He found his way towards the wall and then looked outside to the end of the street. Her car was still in there, if only partially visible because a tree and a lamppost with a banner hanging from it. His Camry, in the other hand, was completely visible from this spot. He sighed. He was condemned.

* * *

.

Where could she be now?

He wondered about half an hour later. Taking a beer and some snacks he headed for Claire's group trying to convince himself that he just couldn't elude them anymore. He mustered all his patience because he knew he was going to need it. It was weird to realize that before he considered the possibility that Helga might be present, it seemed that the party would be dull but tolerable, but now that he knew that it was no possible, the thought of spending the next hours in here was a torture.

He couldn't pinpoint the time when he had become this intolerant; he wasn't even able to tell if it was him who become intolerant, or them who came to be obnoxious. He knew he shouldn't make a sweeping statement of this kind because there were always pleasant exceptions, but he really found most of these people being phony, hollow, and insincere. It was like if at the same time that they showed interest in the wellbeing of other people they managed their own agenda; their own interests. He shouldn't blame them, of course. Everybody has the right to earn their money and pursuit happiness the way they wanted, but if he was prone to believe Claire and Brenda's tales, there were some scary stories about people who got involved with people of these groups and found love, only for their love story to become a bloodcurdling nightmare before they realized.

He could take Brenda as an example. She was dating a guy who – so far he'd heard - was rich and nice and handsome, but as he had witnessed right now he was also, let's say, very corpulent. Of course this fact didn't take from him any merit, as the fact that he found Brenda 'attractive' did. Arnold snorted to himself. Truth that he shouldn't take merits from Brenda either. Maybe she was a nice girl even though he hadn't been able to find lovable qualities in her for as long as he'd known her.

Anyway, he exhaled; he didn't know why he'd become so grumpy lately. He wasn't like that but dealing with all Claire and Brenda nonsense related to their 'voluntary' work put him in bad mood. He was no patient anymore and he couldn't fully understand why, especially now that he had been getting to know closely the work that large charitable foundations did. Maybe this was precisely why he was that intolerant. Charitable work has little to do with what Claire and Brenda did, at least in the aspect regarding the appreciation they think they deserved for being such 'good girls' and 'oh so charitable persons'. It was as if they were a different and superior kind of people only because of this.

Arnold frowned. Maybe it was indeed him who had changed; who had become… made him morally superior anyway? He shook his head. Maybe the best thing to do was stop judging people and try to enjoy the evening.

He looked around and groaned again. Then snorted. It was him or he was becoming a grumpy old man?

.

* * *

. . .

After his conscious decision to not become a younger version of Walter Matthau playing Mr. Wilson in Dennis the Menace movie, Arnold changed his tune and he found himself enjoying the party. He'd danced and small-talked and mixed around; avoided philosophical dissertations and had a couple of beers with Andrew and Arthur, his party buddies. Everything seemed alright. Every now and then he'd walked over the snack table to take a look to the street. He smiled to himself when heard their host, Jenna - Brenda's friends who invited them to the Ball all those months ago - talking about an old neighbor, who used to complain about everything, was now complaining because all of the noise and was threatening to call the cops on them. Arnold was almost sure it was the same old man he and Helga had met the other night; the man Helga had cleverly supposed that loved noise so he had something to complain about.

Helga.

He sighed when he thought of her. He kinda missed her. He had gotten accustomed to know she was around; to run into her at any moment in any hallway. Always smiling to him with that smirk of hers; always calling him names when there were no people around. Helga. His heart skipped a beat every time he got a sight of her. After all this time he'd already admitted to himself he was in love with her, and it crushed him that there was not a chance that his feelings would be reciprocated anytime soon. The way she behaved towards him told him she harbored no feelings for him. Even when he'd caught her throwing weird looks towards him he knew they didn't mean love.

Fortunately to him, Henry's behavior had changed and now he was not that boastful anymore. He didn't talk too much about her either, but when he actually did he always regarded her with respect and adoration. Henry also had been throwing him weird glances. He wondered if he, Arnold, was a usual topic of conversation between them both; if they knew he had feelings for her and if so, do they know the intensity of those feelings?

Intensity. His breath hitched.

Arnold often wondered how he'd react if suddenly they announced their engagement? What would it feel like? Helga was a single woman, but being single now didn't mean she was going to remain single forever, right? Somewhat he was unable to see Helga married to someone else, let alone to someone like Henry. He just couldn't picture them together. Truth that he didn't pictured her married to himself either. Helga seemed way far from those youth yearnings. His illusions about her were limited to have her circled in his arms; to have her, in its full meaning. To let the world know she was his.

He sighed. No doubt that he had been growning-up lately. No more foolish illusions about white weddings, perfect honeymoons or stuff like that.

Someone who Henry talked much about was, actually, his nephew. Henry was seemingly proud of him but at the same time it seemed that the boy had disappointed him in not few aspects. Arnold had the impression that those were aspects where Dick contravened his uncle wishes.

Nevertheless, Arnold thought as he looked down the street for like fiftieth time in the evening to see that Helga's car was still parked in the now more desolated street, he wasn't about to spend the night thinking of them. He turned back to talk to to the other two A-named guys who were keeping him company and also looking out, like him, although their intention surely wasn't to check certain car. Time went on. It was three past midnight and the party didn't seem to be losing its swing anytime soon.

His eyes searched the crowd looking for Claire. He'd been keeping an eye on her. He had to admit that at the same time that he looked for something that indicated that she thought it was time to leave, he was also discreetly looking for a hint that she liked another guy, but she didn't seemed particularly driven to someone special. Maybe it was only his subconscious trying to find her guilty of the same transgression he was. Claire, in fact, seemed pretty much more interested in Brenda's beau, but Arnold didn't really think it was due a personal interest as much as it was as a source of juicy gossip. Arnold shook his head. In any case, he went looking for her to let her know he was ready to leave.

"For God' sake Arnold! Can't you wait a little longer?" she puffed, rolling her eyes at him minutes later. It seemed that the group of friends was having some dirty girl talk because the red faces and the loud guffaws. Arnold shook his head. He turned around only to bump into Brenda and her boyfriend, August. An unusually friendly Brenda handed over the responsibility to entertain her voluminous boyfriend.

Arnold turned to look at her with his mouth agape as she walked away. He had the impression that he'd lost his ability to react. Or maybe it was only that he was a nice guy through and through, and there was nothing he could do about it; he wasn't going to fight against his nature. He turned to the guy as he led the way back to his group. Fortunately, August turned out to be nice, smart and with that nerdy sense of humor that he'd learned to enjoy with the A-pack. They started talking about videogames. August was also a Forza Motorsport's enthusiast and Arnold found himself chatting away with gusto for first time in the entire night.

The blond young man managed to keep his friends around of the now almost empty snack table as he took his chance to keep looking out the window. After a few hours of inconstant surveillance nothing has changed. Well, there were fewer cars on the street each time he took a look out, but the white Evoque was still at its spot. Arnold and the group kept talking. Andrew told the group one of his last experiences in the helpline center; and then August asked them if it they think it was right that his new girlfriend met his parents at the upcoming Christmas gathering of the family.

"No way!" Andrew exclaimed.

"Isn't it too soon?" Arthur asked.

"How long you've been dating her?" Arnold asked.

But whatever answer August was about to pronounce died when the guys' attention was stole by something happening down on the street. The deep rumble of a powerful engine made them gather around the small window.

"What is it?" Arnold asked as he stood in tiptoes, pushing his way to get a peek out through the crowded window.

"Look at that!" Arthur exclaimed with admiration.

"What is-?" Arnold repeated but then stopped himself when he saw what they were talking about.

"Man oh, man! I can't believe it. I'm such a good kid. Why God doesn't reward all my good deeds with one of those." Andrew whistled.

"You mean the car or the chick, dude?"

"The car, dumbass!" he snickered "Granting I wouldn't say no to the girl."

Arthur laughed and slapped the back of his friend's head. "I wouldn't either!" he announced. Arnold sighed lowly as his eyes followed the sophisticated and feminine figure that stormed out from the passenger door as soon as the luxurious car made a halt right behind the Evoque. "What is it?" he vacillated "It's a..."

"A blonde?" Arnold offered.

"... C_arrera_?" Arthur ended.

The other guy chortled.

"Nope. It's a Porsche 911 Turbo S." August replied, also enthralled with the vision down there. They all went silent as the girl flounced out towards the car ahead and her footsteps echoed in the empty street.

"How could you tell?" Arnold asked. "There's no Porsches in Forza."

"Because the tail," it was now Andrew who pointed out, drawing out a sinuous curve in the air "Because it's written down there, and because it's my favorite car in the entire world. How couldn't I tell, huh? I even have a poster on my wall."

"You have a poster on your wall?" Arthur snorted. "Like a little kid?"

Andrew turned to him with a derisive expression.

"Dude! You have a Princess Mononoke poster on your wall!"

"Shut the hell up!" Arthur warned.

"Hey, I'm not criticizing." The other guy laughed.

"Let me see." Arnold pushed them so they made room for him. They continued mocking each other, but Arnold wouldn't care. Something felt heavy in his stomach when the driver of the expensive car got out as soon as he could and followed the blonde girl.

His buddies howled.

"I think I'd choose the blonde instead," August said.

"The chick?! Right!" Andrew said mockingly "I'd rather have the car."

Arnold wanted them to shush so he'd be able to hear something, but he knew it'd be ridiculous… and suspicious.

"_In this country, you gotta make the money first. Then when you get the money, you get the power. Then when you get the power, then you get the women." _Arthur quoted in false Italian accent._  
_

Andrew laughed at his impersonation but August snorted.

"Believe me, dudes! Tony Montana didn't know what he was talking about." He paused as he drank from his beer "It's not that easy to get the women. At least not a woman like that." He pointed down with his beer, to the exact spot where the tree and the banner shielded the couple from their viewpoint. "Looks like that guy also knows it. He's going after her."

Arnold cursed under his breath. '_A woman like that!'_, he snorted. His friends were now whistling and cat calling. The guy had obviously convinced the girl and he was now making up for whatever that had made the girl angry in the first place. Vague shadows of the couple wearing heavy coats and making out down there were partially shielded from prying eyes by an advertising banner.

It felt like forever. To the guys the girl accompanying the owner of the expensive car was just some unknown beautiful and blonde New Yorker; a Midwestern girl, probably, who moved to the big city to capitalize on her beauty but he knew better. He knew it was her, Helga Pataki, and she wasn't a random girl at all but the former bully from the PS 118 playground; the girl who left public education to go to a private high school fifteen years ago; and the one who was now the unofficial CEO of Mueller Enterprises.

Arnold could feel his heart beating against his ribcage as he lessened his breathing with deliberation, trying to get over his astonishment, over his shock. The almost CEO of Mueller Enterprises was shamelessly making out in the middle of the street at ungodly hours. The impetus of their smooching made the Evoque sway slightly.

Well, what else could he do that keep looking like the others? Should he turn around and leave the window? Arnold looked to the room. Everything was the same. The three other guys kept looking as little as they were able to see from the scene down the street. What was Helga thinking, for god's sake? Didn't she realize-?

The lights of the SUV finally turned on. The usual noises of car doors and engines turning to life could be heard. The dark shadow that belonged to the guy walked back to his sumptuous white car, got in and waited until the SUV pulled out. Then he fell behind. Arnold breathed out slowly. Chance and darkness had been their allies. If he didn't know Helga the way he did he had never guessed it was her. Her lover was other thing, though. He didn't look like someone who Arnold had ever met, but then again, he actually didn't see him at all so he was unable to put a name to the shadow, but one thing was sure, however,

He was not Henry.

.

* * *

**They are making the movie!**

**Thanks for reading. A Thousand thanks to my faithful reviewers. I'll be back soon.**

**December 4th, 2015.**


	28. It's About Time

**Rocket to the Moon**

**Chapter Twenty Eight**

**It's About Time  
**

* * *

. . .

"Alright people, I know we're still excited about the great time we all had during this Christmas and New Year festivities, but now they are over and at least while you're in this office I want you to start focusing on work again…"

Arnold leaned back against the wall as he saw Deborah talking to the group of lawyers and employees before her. She'd expressed her best wishes before Christmas and had already vowed for health, prosperity and wellness for the upcoming year for them all. She was now encouraging the group to work hard and wear the company's colors with pride.

Arnold felt proud of himself knowing he'd worked hard and had done his best in every single project that reached his hands. He had that satisfaction. It felt great that his coworkers also saw it; that Deb knew it, and even Dick had acknowledged it. The previous day he had even congratulated him.

Or some of the sort.

"_Hey Arnold!"_ He got surprised when he was reached in the middle of the hallway and received a friendly pat on his back. _"Great work!" _Dick said_ "I've never met a lawyer so thoroughgoing and creative. You guys should learn from him." _He added looking a around, and then back at him_ "I'm glad you're working with me." _ He pronounced before keep going.

Unexpected as it was, it'd made his day. With all probability the appreciation of his boss was better than any Christmas present he received this year. They were not alone in that hallway. There were people around: some of his juniors, Arnold's coworkers and random people too. It felt nice to receive this acknowledgment even if it was made in an informal context. It came from Dick Mueller himself and everybody knew Dick's public praises were more-like scarce.

.

In any case, Arnold felt great. He'd been feeling more proactive and efficient since; enjoying the satisfaction that a job well-done brought. The blond boy realized he was actually happy in his job, and what was more, he loved what he did. It was somehow strange. Years ago he'd never thought he'd be happy working for a transnational company, but maybe there were things he still didn't know about himself, as Helga kept telling him. He should have realized earlier though. He was a Corporative lawyer; not a lawyer specialized in Civil Rights, or Family Laws after all, and that must mean something.

In addition, he also loved the work he was doing at Henry's side. Henry was founding the foundations of his Foundation; 'excuse my repetition' he'd say if someone asked, -although no one did-. Still, in this case it was worth the redundancy. There was no best way to say it. If you asked him, Arnold would say that the day this Foundation –without an official name so far- were started, it'd definitively call the attention. Henry was taking his time. _'I'm working harder than I did when Mueller Enterprises started growing, you know?'_ he'd shared to him some afternoon several weeks ago.

Working along the old Mueller taught Arnold something else. Something he'd come to call 'The Secret of his Success'. Henry was charming. Not your typical charming, but '_CHARMING_', written with capital _and_ bold letters. Henry was disarming, appealing, polite, charismatic… he could keep listening qualities but the truth was that he attracted people around him like a magnet. Everybody was enticed to him; everybody wanted to talk to him; nobody could deny him anything. Arnold had witnessed how he'd already added tons of checks and help promises to his cart in just few weeks.

"You'd be the greatest con artist in fraud history if you wanted, you know?" Arnold had said to him after a particularly juicy dinner, which earned him a loud laugh in response. The woman of a banker had been looking at him throughout the dinner with eyes full of admiration. Admiration and only God knew what else, Arnold rolled his eyes. No doubt why he had Helga in his pocket, not the other way around as people use to think, Arnold thought to himself,

Although…

"I know." Henry said after his laugh subsided "What tells you I'm not?" He asked enigmatically then, throwing him a murky look that almost made him jump out of his skin. Arnold chose to ignore any further thought on that regard. Henry was way too smart to even start with it. There were enough things to care about that night to care about anything else.

One of those things was to keep an eye on certain man seated at a neighbor table in elegant restaurant where they were at. Luke - _Whatever_. Just now Arnold realized he didn't know his last name. Anyway, there he was. Seated at a table with another two men and - to all appearances - having quite an evening. They laughed loudly and looked amused. They seemed to be observing the surroundings with critiquing eyes; in a similar way he'd seen Rhonda and her clique doing all those years ago.

Then there was a moment when Luke came to their table to greet their companion, -_'a fellow banker'-_. He also took the opportunity to greet Henry. Henry returned his greeting politely; however he was a bit curt. There was something about Luke that disgusted Arnold deeply. That phony smile of him, his open brazenness, his sauciness…. To think he once was Helga's boyfriend almost made him lose it. Arnold had to count to ten to stop himself from smacking his annoyingly overjoyed face.

And he couldn't help but feel sympathy towards Henry then. If he himself found the man insufferable, he couldn't start to think what would be Henry feeling right now. It was obvious the old man repelled the bloke too. But over it all, Arnold suspected Luke was the man in the white Porsche. That showy car fitted this showy guy perfectly. Besides, his attitude towards Henry was insolent, almost challenging. Like if he was aware of something that Henry didn't. Arnold had come to the conclusion that Henry knew about Helga's naughty wanderings and it was only matter of putting two and two together to realize what was happening here, something he was sure Henry had already done.

.

'_The gratefulness of second chances'_. Arnold hummed to himself as he kept typing away on his computer. According to Henry that was how Helga called their relationship, and he swore he could never find a better label. He sighed. Only God know what kind of relationships rich people used to get involved in; what they looked for in there. Men like Luke whose masculinity could be doubtful. Or old men like Henry who let their woman wander a bit, probably allowing them to look for more emotion in someone else's bed when they couldn't provide it anymore. He stirred in his seat. The pure thought making him shudder.

Then he snorted, realizing he was seeing the speck of sawdust in the neighbor's eye. His own relationship with Claire was rather peculiar. They clung to the only aspect of their relationship that was still functional: sex. Arnold inhaled deeply. Other than that, their relationship was almost inexistent. Henry's bond with Helga seemed stronger than his own with Claire. Henry loved her, respected her, and regarded her in every aspect of his life. They were in close contact at all times, even when she was absent for long periods because of work. He, in other side, slept at Claire' side every night and still there were days where they didn't interchange a single word in the entire evening.

Closing the file he'd been working on, and right then his desk phone went off, startling him. It'd been a while since he'd begun working mechanically and had lost track of time, giving in to his thoughts and positively ignoring the surroundings. He blinked twice as he came back to contact with the rest of the world – or all the noises of the office in any case-. He lifted the handset from its cradle and answered.

"Legal."

"Shortman," the dry voice of Dick's secretary made him grumble inwardly "Mr. Mueller wants to see you."

"Now?" his red pencil stopped in the middle of the paper and he looked around his desk.

"Yeah. Right now." She paused for a second "What answer should I give him?" she went on, unyielding, the way the people on 30th floor used to be. "He's waiting."

He hesitated before letting out an: "Alright," then paused. The lady on the other end hummed affirmatively "Tell him I'll be there in five."

"Perfect."

And five minutes later there he was; reaching the next floor. He looked briefly at Helga's office before nodding at the secretaries and knocking at Dick's door. He pushed it open. Would Helga be in town, he wondered. He hadn't been able to take a hold on her since the week before Christmas. His virtual Christmas card was replied by an equally virtual and cheerful but somewhat cold greetings and best wishes card. Arnold really missed her but he was getting tired of thinking how much he missed her.

What did he actually missed, he pondered. Seeing her around? Because it wasn't as if they talked that much or were in best friends' terms anyway. If not because Henry's allusions of her, he could see that his knowledge about her was almost null.

"Hey Arnold," Dick raised his sight to look briefly at him before going back to signing papers "Thanks for coming up so quickly." He gestured to the seat across from him. Arnold looked at him as he got ready to listen to whatever the tough-looking man in front of him wanted him to do. Dick's demeanor towards him had become more approachable since that Sunday afternoon almost a month ago; so much that Arnold would dare to say that he was treated like a friend.

He handed him a file at the time he spoke.

"Tell me Arnold, did Santa bring you a nice gift this Christmas, huh?" he let out a slanted smile "Or your workplace is still that shitty cupboard under the stairs?"

Arnold chortled, surprised by his humorous statement. "Yeah, it still is" he replied, taking a look at the documents "Seems that not even him is able to find me a new place; not even the smallest bedroom."

Dick snorted.

"I don't know what's happening to Grace. She used to be more efficient." He shook his head with forced resignation. "I guess she's getting weak."

"It's not a problem, really-" Arnold started. He didn't really blame Grace.

"It's not about what you think, Arnold." The blue eyed man looked at him with a frown. "It's about what must be done. The kind of work you realize requires a private space. It's unacceptable that you're still working in the open hall."

Arnold hesitated. He always found his meetings with Dick to be kinda anxiety-inducing. "Well," he exhaled. "I understand Grace's reasons. Yours too, you know that... At least my coworkers seem to understand the situation and-"

"Do they?" Dick interrupted him, making a face. "Anyway," he got up and motioned for him to go to the end of the room "This agreement needs privacy and concentration. I need you totally focused." He walked beyond the folding screen where some kind of smaller office was located, hidden from sight. Dick pointed the meeting table that was in there. "I have an appointment at eleven and I'm not coming back but in the afternoon. Then I have another meeting at six," he turned to him "I guess I don't mind sharing my office with you for the short time I'll be here today-" he paused "as long as you're not loud."

Arnold froze. He was looking at the table with wide open eyes and his mouth ajar when Dick prompted him to speak. "Well?"

"Hmmm," he vacillated. Truth was that he didn't like the idea a little bit. Would he concentrate in work being by Dick's side? Literally. "Dick, I think it's not necessary. I mean," Arnold vacillated "I work perfectly well at my spot-"

"How long you think it'd take?" Dick asked pointed to the document in his hands.

"With some luck, the rest of the day." He responded.

Dick nodded. "Then I insist. Not a word of this document must be seen outside. Yet. And I need it ASAP."

"When it's ASAP? Could it be tomorrow? I mean, I can work at home-"

"Hell no!" It was like an automatic reply. Something in his tone made Arnold felt embarrassed by his suggestion. Dick seemed to realize Arnold was startled by his rudeness because he added in an nicer way "You don't have to work at home when you can perfectly do it in here."

Arnold looked again towards the small meeting table. It seemed a confortable workplace, but he wasn't convinced, in the least.

"You're thinking you'd be a prisoner, aren't you?" the taller man snorted "As I told you, virtually I won't be here. I'll assure you you'll be able to go grab lunch at any time, or going out for coffee or whatever; just don't bring anyone over; much less that girlfriend of yours."

Arnold frowned. Too many thoughts were circling his mind and out of all those he chose to say:

"She never comes to the office."

He wondered briefly why Dick used that tone regarding Claire, but the young Mueller went on without further emphasis. He only raised his brows.

"Anyway, Kaitlin knows you'll be here. She's an okay girl, so you shouldn't worry about her. The rest of the people who come over mind their own business. You don't need to get bothered by any of them," he hummed in thought "If something, discretion is all what I'd ask you for."

"Hmmm" Arnold realized there was no point in complaining. Dick had made up his mind and, as Arnold had already learned, humoring him was always the best way to get out of it unscathed. "Okay." He nodded in affirmation "I have to go back to my place to… put my things away, I guess; bring up my laptop."

"Alright. There's no need to knock when you're back." Dick said as he went back to his own seat.

. . .

An hour later Arnold was barely getting himself accustomed to work knowing that the youngest of the Muellers was only a few feet away. He got disrupted every time someone walked in or when Dick attended his phone. His mind lost focus. Too much for being concentrated in here, Arnold snorted. Still, it was kinda interesting to see Dick's interrelation with the rest of people. The way he bossed everybody around; the way he managed to be rude with all the people that came his way. To see that without exception everyone complied with his wishes. It was kinda funny too to listen to him reprimanding Stan over the phone; then using his sharp humor to criticize someone's ideas to be put in practice in some remote part of the globe; setting a drinking date with a buddy at some old-school glamour bar in downtown; or complaining about the deficient service his car received in its recent visit to the service center.

Arnold laughed to himself. Truth was that he sympathized with the last call. He had also been doubtful about what people do to your car when it was sent the service center: rotating tires, changing oil and filters, checking fluids, how do you know they actually did the work? Not a few times he'd feel tempted to go over there to ask them what they did exactly, but he'd never did for fear of losing face. Dick seemed to be immune to that kind of dread. He was particularly mean to whoever was attending his call. Even over the phone Dick could be really threatening.

Arnold shook his head as he looked at him through the screen. He wondered why Dick chose to take precisely that call when he had rejected some others that were more business related, but as usual, he knew he'd never got an answer to those questions.

. . .

In any case, at one o'clock Arnold left to go grab lunch at the cafeteria located in a lower floor of the building with his usual clique. Dick was already gone. When Arnold was back at quarter to three his boss hadn't arrived yet. His secretary, Kaitlin, brought him some coffee; a gesture he appreciated. He was finally getting some work done when his boss walked in right after three pm; not that he was keeping track of his time, of course.

Dick didn't come to check on him by the way, so Arnold was able to keep working without interruptions despite two new visits Dick received, one from the same Kaitlin bringing up some documents, and the other one was Henry, who came in seemingly only to say hello and make some small talk. Henry stayed just for a few minutes.

About four-thirty the blond boy was starting to wonder if he'd get the job done to the end of the day when an energetic knock was heard. He raised the head to outstretch the muscles of his neck when a very distinctive voice reached his ears.

"Knock, knock, knock," there was a pause "Have a minute?"

Helga's chirpy voice was a balsam to his ears. Arnold remained still. So she was here, in town. He craned his neck to see the blonde girl wearing a pale blue dress as she closed the door and walked in, holding a book and a folder in her hands.

"A minute? Really?" Dick snorted as Arnold saw her taking a seat and giving him her back. There were some rustling of papers. "You know I can see you brought your famous pink book?" He asked wiht a sneer.

"Alright, alright. Guilty." Helga raised her hand "An hour, hour and a half tops" she added brightly as the chair creaked slightly when she leaned back and crossed her legs.

"I guess I have no option," Dick grumbled lowly as he took the set of papers Helga offered him "Why don't you ask for an appointment like the rest of people?"

"You know it doesn't work between us." She said affably "Besides, we also need to talk about…" she trailed off.

"About?" Dick stopped doing what he was doing and turned to see her.

"Let's say – Communications level three-"

"No, no, no, no!" Dick lifted both hands in front of him "Don't '_level three_' me now. You know I never get your codes." He grunted "Not even you get your codes straight anyway. Last time they were like ten levels or something!"

"And you think I use them because I like them?" she scoffed "Sadly, experience has taught us that we don't function otherwise. You're so complicated that I've thinking we should start recording our meeti-"

"_I-Am-Complicated?!"_ Dick scoffed, repeating her words.

Arnold frowned. Would it be a good idea that he listened in to them? Dick knew he was in there, but Helga didn't. She should be warned. He was about to get up when he saw Helga standing up and decided to wait and see. Maybe his interruption wouldn't be necessary.

Helga laughed dryly. "You know perfectly well who you are. You don't need me to come and remind you that." She walked towards the door "Anyway-" she paused "I really need to start working on the new projects, but _PERHAPS_ I should've waited until-"

"What?! You leaving already? The perfectly efficient, uncomplicated girl's giving up this soon?"

"You know?" She stopped abruptly and turned around. "I don't feel like dealing with you when you're being so crabby."

"I don't feel like dealing with you when you're being so sunny." he retorted right away. "But I have to, nevertheless."

"Sunny? Really?!" Helga shook her head. "I'll never get accustomed to be called _'sunny'_" she scoffed with dry humor. "You're the only one who's ever called me that way."

"Here we go again!" Dick scoffed and leaned back in his chair. "Am I about to hear the boring tale about the poor little girl?"

"I'm not saying anything! I'm only expressing my amazement!" Helga exclaimed impatiently; but then added, piercing "I'd never dare to usurp your place as the poorest kid around."

"I'm not asking you to do it, Miss Teen Entrepreneur." He bit back "Howd'ya expect that someone ever believes your sad tale when you're so perfect; when it's so obvious how much everybody loves you?"

"Everybody loves me?!" Helga shook her head in amazement. Then she took her hand to the side of her head to comb her soft hair. Then taking a deep intake she replied in a calmer way "You know? I can't help but wonder how is that my credibility always ends being put on the line?"

"By whom? Me?" he snorted "What the hell do you care about what I think?"

"That's something I keep asking to myself" she uttered in low hum. "Anyway," she let out a low exhalation as she walked back to the seat. "Since I need new material to work, I guess I'll agree with you. I'll stop caring about what you think and I'll just get started."

"I might not have an entire hour for your-"

"_Don't-Care_!" she raised her sight as she opened her book "Zip it and listen up." She started with neutral voice but when Dick grunted threateningly she chuckled. "Oh, snap! Did I offend you?"

"How could you?" he retorted, looking at her through the slit of his eyes.

"That's exactly why I ask. But when it comes to you I'd rather be sure."

"Only when it comes to me?" he said with scorn.

Surprisingly she tittered, biting her lip. Dick chuckled. "Unbelievable!" Arnold frowned, confused. He leaned in to see that Dick had a strange smile perched on his face when Helga spoke again. "Are we going to have an hour of this?" She finally asked.

Was it only a teasing?

"It's up to you." He replied "I thought you were warming up, but sadly, I really have to go at six."

"You ready then?"

"Fire away."

. . .

With a frown Arnold went back to his work but his attention was half on it and half on what was being discussed out there. Business; pure and sheer business. After the initial scene that could they classified as 'warming up', they started making a recount or revision of the different enterprises of the conglomerate. Sometimes Helga listed them quickly. Dick hadn't much to add; he majorly listened. Some other times they took their time to analyze them carefully. Their business communication was smooth, flawless. It was as if they had similar minds and a shared the same ideas processing center.

"Denver has yet to prove its worth." Helga was saying "I still don't like their numbers, Dick. You have to work your magic a little more…" she hummed "intensely in there."

"It's a hard time for glass industry as you already know." he justified "What surprises me, actually, is that you still care about it. I thought you've already given up."

"Not yet. I like that plant; and I like Denver. But me liking them is not going to save them. Let's see how it goes for the rest of the year. You must show more love over there."

"I know," Dick said in a low grumble "But what about Winnipeg, huh?" he added; his voice changing.

"Congratulations for that one!" Helga chirped raising her thumb, but that was just an expression. Then they went back to their usual intone. Arnold focused on his document once again. It still needed some polishing. He wondered if he should interrupt them and leave to keep working at his workplace, but then he shrugged it off. Maybe by the time he completed it Helga could have also finished and that way she'd never knew he'd been back here the entire time.

He successfully ignored them for a while, until he was brought back to reality when he heard their laughing.

"Oh, come on!" Helga was chuckling "That's mean!"

"It's not mean. I'm telling you! The man is gonna end suffering a heart attack! Nobody can stand that kind of pressure!"

"It's completely absurd that you -out of everyone- would say something like that."

"Hey! I would never take that post!" Dick exclaimed.

"Nobody is asking you to do it, right?" Helga stated, mockingly "So why to worry? We're not in that position. I mean, Mueller is not Volkswagen; not that we are remotely close in any case, of course. But at least we're not having a super crisis right now, are we?"

"God forbid!" Dick uttered "Poor guys! They've been having some rough time."

"It's been long, isn't it?" Helga exhaled "I mean, Toyota and GM also had crisis recently, but they got over really quick, don't they?"

"And look that they had real problems; serious risks. People actually died. VW's situation is something software-related, isn't it? The cars themselves have no problems at all."

"But they cheated." Helga pronounced, serious. "And people knew. That's the problem."

"Do you really think they're the only ones who lied?" Dick scoffed. "I mean," he hummed "Jeep, Ford, Mercedes, Peugeot, Toyota, you choose…. Do you think they don't alter their emission levels?"

"No doubt." Helga's voice sounded thoughtful "This is out of proportion. Something smells fishy here."

"Of course something's fishy here. I mean, who buys a car based on its emission levels? Who actually cares about that? If you really like some car, are you going to tell me you're not buying it because it pollutes? Come on! All cars pollute."

"I get your point. Though I think there are people who actually pay attention to that fact."

"Yeah." He pouted "And they are the ones who go and buy a Prius."

"A Tesla," Helga chuckled.

"Poor fools! Buying a car with the name of a tragic figure of science and think they're saving the planet!" Dick stated scornfully "Good chance! Let the idiots buy a car to show off while they go for a spin, 'cause they're gonna need real gas-fueled cars and a tow truck to go pick them up when the Tesla leaves them stranded."

"Do you know that there are more and more people who're thinking they'd buy one of those if they could afford it?" Helga asked.

"People are so easily impressionable." Dick let out a disdainful scoff "They don't think. They just believe everything they hear. Don't they know that even electricity pollutes? I mean, if it's doesn't come from a nuclear or a hydroelectric plant –which is the least- then electricity comes from good old coal. And we all know what the one and only mission of coal is, right? To be burned."

"All-right-" Helga spoke with what Arnold thought was deliberate slowness.

"And I'm not talking about what happens in a godforsaken country, no. I mean here, in America. Two thirds of our energy is generated by coal or natural gas. Did you know that? That's the electricity that feeds your Tesla."

"I don't have a Tesla." Helga said as to herself. Dick went on.

"I mean, is not there cheating on that?"

"I…" Helga vacillated. "I think I'm not the right person to emit an opinion on that regard."

"But- did you know that?" Dick insisted.

"No, I didn't."

"Most people don't know. They want to believe so badly that there are heroes."

"Right. Heroes! That's what we all want, don't we?" her chipper exclamation was followed by an unenthusiastic exhalation. "Alright, where were we?" there was a pause "What's so funny?" she suddenly asked, seemingly affronted. Arnold craned his neck to see her leaning forward towards her partner "What does that look mean, kiddo?" her voice turned playful.

"You like them, don't you?" his question seemed an accusation. "Tesla."

"No, I don't." she replied, leaning back "One of the things I learned from Bob was never buy a first generation"

"If it weren't a first generation would you buy it?" he asked in low voice; he was unrelenting.

"I don't think so." She hummed "For what you said it's sounds as if you asked your iPad to drive you to places."

Dick laughed. "I'd never describe it so well myself."

"Of course you wouldn't." Helga's voice was cocky. "I'm the poet. Not you."

"I thought you wanted to become a writer."

"Tomayto, tomahto" she clicked her tongue. "Where were we? I mean, really." She exhaled "We need to keep going."

"You brought the car topic up." Dick informed "Why, if I may ask?"

"Right. Now I remember." She said in a faltering way "I think we're moving to phase II"

"You know I don't follow your phases." He grumbled.

"Oh, you do, only that you don't admit it." She chuckled "Anyway," she spoke slowly "There's a car factory in Eastern Europe, you know, that could soon be put…"

"On sale?" he ended for her.

"No, no _yet_. They could be persuaded to do it. Soon. Maybe." Her affirmation was followed by a short silence.

"But?" Dick finally asked.

"How do you know there's a '_but_'?" he made a strange sound with his throat and she snorted "Alright" she conceded "It's not our… _thing_." She said after a small vacillation "Not a big name; it's making little money; has a limited range; the car had issues…"

"Then what made you consider it in the first place?"

"I thought you could like it. Thought you'd find it interesting. It'd be fun as hell to work in there-"

"But there won't be money?"

"Not for a while."

"How long 'while'?"

"I wouldn't put my word on it," she hummed "But it might be six, seven years…"

"Why are you even considering it?" Dick scoffed "Not a good deal. Doesn't seem like you at all."

"I know-" even when Arnold couldn't see her face he knew she was biting her lip "It's not even on sell, Dick. I'm… thinking in advance." Helga said on the defensive "I heard about it. It'd never be my choice as you just said…. I'm glad you think that way too because I'd hate to feel guilty if a word goes out, eventually, and you hear it from someone else."

"It's not lucrative?" Arnold saw Helga shaking firmly her head "I see," he vacillated "I appreciate your consideration."

"I'm not being considerate-"

Dick chortled "I know what it is." He paused "Well, thank you anyway… but I don't need your regard."

"I wasn't-"

"You went out of your way only to show me a little consideration," He paused "though I can't get why."

"It wasn't because of you, but because of Mueller-"

"Right."

"How's that-?" Helga started impatiently but then stopped "Let's just go on." She turned to see her papers.

"Why it's so hard to admit?" he asked curious; his sight was still fixed on her.

"Because…" Helga exhaled with impatience "Alright," she indulged "I know you hated India," she made a pause "and still you executed it beautifully, just the way I wanted. I don't use to say it but I appreciate the effort you put in there. India was a personal challenge to me, and half of the success is yours."

"Only half?" he asked, deadpanned.

"Peter!" Helga warned.

"Ach ja!" Dick let out a German expression. "Why is so hard to say it?" he asked, humorously.

"It's you who's asking?! You?! The perfect example of warmth and good manners?!"

"You're not a walk on the beach yourself!"

Helga scoffed. "News flash, jerk! I'm not sweet!" Arnold almost could see her rolling her eyes "What I've been trying to tell you all this time? Sometimes I feel like if you don't know me at all!"

"Do I know you?" his voice was full with mistrust.

She paused. "No, you don't." she exhaled and her voice turned dejected "You should, but you choose to thrust me on with the worst appellations and experiences you've met in your life. Believe it or not, it's-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." He cut her off, rudely "I thought we were on only phase II. How's that we made it to the top?" He said scornfully, lowering his eyes to see his papers. Helga snorted with defeat. "Are we done for the day?" he raised his head to see her with a frown. Arnold realized his face didn't show any amusement.

"Not yet." She inhaled deeply "Phase II," she uttered plainly. "Next year acquisitions-"

"You mean this year acquisitions?" he interrupted her. "You've told me nothing yet."

"No." She shook her head "This year acquisitions would be on the table on March, as usual." She said curtly ". You'll know then, like the others. What I wanted to infor-" she stopped "What I wanted to share with you- and let's be straight here. I'm telling you this preliminarily. It's not a decision already taken; I'm just tasting the waters-" she took air "Well- I wanted to share with you that in two years from now I'll be considering to focus on ourselves; to reinvest the resources in our own company. Like what we did in India. Take some of our best enterprises and make them grow."

"So you want to stop Mueller growing."

"Typical of you!" she scoffed "Why are you so eager to jump to conclusions? To the wrong conclusions to be exact?!"

"You're saying you don't want to acquire new enterprises!"

"Didn't hear what I said?!" she raised her voice "Our growing is not given by the number of companies that are sheltered under Mueller name! It's about the 'numbers' -_plural!_\- that we have; about how much is our worth!" She growled "Man! I can't believe that you actually said that!"

"What would people say if we suddenly stop buying companies. They won't say '_Oh, that's a fucking awesome strategy!'_ no! They'd think we're on recession; that we're not growing anymore."

"But that won't be true and it'll be so easy to prove! In fact, if our spokesmen announced it beforehand there won't be bad press at all!"

Dick shook his head "I don't think it's a good decision."

"All right." She nodded, coolly "You've expressed your opinion. Point taken."

"Does Henry know about this?"

"Nope." She exhaled.

"Why not?"

She took air before answering "Well, for one, because you're my partner in crime." Then she hummed something unintelligible that sounded like _"-you need more time-',_ but Arnold wasn't sure if he heard right. "Besides,"

"_I NEED MORE TIME TO PROCESS IT?!"_ Arnold blinked. In a sudden motion Dick had jumped to his feet and had walked towards her "What's that supposed to mean? Are you suggesting I'm an idiot?! That I don't think right?!" he'd reached her side and was leaned menacingly over her. Arnold himself cringed in his spot as he observed the scene from afar. Dick has a way to intimidate people and look that he was really good at that.

"I don't think you're an idiot and you know it." Helga started, looking up at him, straight in the eye. She hasn't cowered a bit but her voice was cautious. She raised her hand to touch his chest in a placated way and Dick gave a step back, brushing off her touch and letting out a menacing grumble. Helga had her full attention on him. Like a prey observing her predator with extreme wariness "Despite everything, I categorically consider you a smart man."

"_Despite - Everything?!"_ Dick pounced on again. Helga didn't flinch. Arnold contained his breath "You realize you're getting deeper and deeper with every word you say?!"

"Why we always end up like this?" Helga pushed her seat back and stood up to face him, but still remained at safe distance from him. It didn't seem as if she feared him but like if she was readying herself for the battle. Arnold observed them again. On second thoughts, she didn't look like a prey, but just like her opponent: like a second predator. Dick' stance was intimidating. They both looked like two fiery beast getting ready for the battle. "Why can't you take a critic?"

"Like you do. You speak as if you were Little Miss Perfect!"

"Who's perfect, for chrissake?! Who cares about that?!"

"You think I'm an idiot!"

"Would I waste my time with you if I think you were?"

"How could I know? Sometimes you can be really stupid!"

Helga was about to retort when she contained herself and cursed under her breathe.

"What do we get from these fights?" she asked, resignedly "Aren't you tired? They come from nowhere. They take us to nothing. They just wear us off."

"You're the one who started this time!"

"Saying that you need extra time to process my stuff?" Helga shook her head with disbelief "You had to admit it. You're always quick to dismiss everything that I propose; way before you've taken the time to give it a thought!"

"And you're oh-so fucking smart!" he snapped his fingers in a peculiar way "You think really fast!"

"When I bring them up to you I've already looked at them from all sides. It's not about me being smarter!"

"That's bullshit!" Dick scoffed. "You're always trying to make them all notice how bright…"

"God! I can't believe what I hear!" Helga seemed to be losing her patience. She raised her hands in front of her but was careful not to touch him "Let's restart this. I'm just doing my work. I wanted you to know about my plans for the upcoming year. It's a prospect; not a decision taken. And I already heard your opinion." Dick tried to interrupt her but she went on inflexibly "You're informed. Now you have something to think over. When you're ready to hear the entire plan I'll be more than happy to give you the details." She exhaled deeply and went on before he interrupted her "You know? I go out of my way because I'm sensitive to your susceptibility; to your distrust; but since I never get a positive response from you I'm getting tired." Dick tried to speak again but she spoke louder "I actually expected you to be open to the idea for once, but I guess I should stop being a dreamer."

"You fucking bitch!" Dick slurred through clenched teeth. "You really think I'm a fucking retard?!"

"You're prejudiced; that's what I think." Helga replied cautiously after a long ingest.

Dick also took air and straightened up to his full height. "Get the hell out of here." He hissed.

"No." looking at him in the eye she first spoke with eerie calm but then she cried out "_No fucking way, you heard?_! I'm not done! You think I'm gonna come back next week sneaking my way in so I don't find you all ill-disposed." Helga pointed to the other side of the table and then took her seat. "You better sit because I'm not going anywhere." She opened her notebook. Arnold contained his breath.

"_What. The. Fuck?!"_

"Want to see my ugly face tomorrow?! The day after tomorrow?!" she asked harshly "_Go take your damn seat!"_

"Now you come here to give me orders?" Dick growled under his breath.

"I'm tired of your hyper sensibility. I have to keep moving and sometimes it's just tiring to wait until you're ready. You're so eager to think that everything hides a scheme against you; you're always mistrustful; you're so full of prejudices and it's so fucking exhausting to have to deal with all that besides of what I already have on my plate. Go take your fucking seat!"

He observed her with jaw clenched and glaring eyes. "I didn't know you thought I was so fucked." He finally said in low voice.

"We're both fucked." Helga inhaled deeply as she watched him going around the desk. " But I admit it... Somehow you manage to forget it all, and then we have to start it over once and again."

"Why are you so angry with me?" he groused "I thought we were okay."

"You were the one who was all grumpy when I came in."

Dick let out a dejected snort "Right," he remained silent for a while.

"Can we go on now?" she asked.

A few minutes after his dispirited nod, Arnold realized he needed to force his will to focus on his own job. His attention was completely set on the guys on the other side of the room. They were actually discussing the future of the company, and even when their disposition was far from the ideal they still went on resolutely.

.

Arnold had already surpassed the point where he was amazed to discover that Helga was able to deal with Dick's temper. He exhaled. Dick's roughness made him recall of the old Helga's, but Helga was a kid back then; nothing to do in power and influence with a grown up man like Dick. Then he wondered if all what Helga had endured during her childhood prepared her to deal with people like the young Mueller, Henry himself, or the tough businessmen she dealt with in a daily basis. Probably it did; after all, her sparring had been no other than Big Bob Pataki, who wasn't an easy prey at all, but a loud blowhard as Grandpa Phil used to call him. Did her past help her become who she actually was? A strong woman? A tough senior executive?

"It means we're getting to Phase III?" Arnold heard Dick's voice asking. He sounded chirpier now.

"Whatever," Helga grumbled "You're not answering my question."

"Oh," he mumbled with mock surprise "Was it a question?"

"Do you have an answer?" Helga uttered, deadpanned.

Dick hummed in vacillation "No," he replied after a while.

"Come on, Dick. He's your uncle!"

"Well Helga. We all know that keeping him pleased is your job, not mine. Couldn't you be… I don't know… more _complaisant_?"

"_You. Fucking. Bastard!"_ Helga hissed. Dick laughed wryly.

"I stopped being a bastard at fourteen, remember? About the time when girls started to find my freckles '_cute'_".

"Can't you be serious for once?" Helga sounded constrained.

"Now you want me to be serious?"

She released her breathe. "I want you to give your uncle the certainty that there will be no surprises when you assume his post."

"You want me to give my word to him- _or to you_?"

Helga snorted "Glen's been bragging about splits, merges and I don't know what other nonsense regarding the future of the company."

"Have I talked to Glen lately? He's been on Europe since the beginnings of December."

"His daughter maybe?"

Dick snorted scathingly.

"You know Regina doesn't know how to spell '_businesses'_, honey." He sneered "That's what you wanted to know about?"

Helga cleared her throat uncomfortably. "We have a deal." She pronounced.

"Yes, we do." His voice turned serious.

"Should I start worrying?" Helga's was cautious.

"Why should you?"

"Why shouldn't?"

"I honor my deals." Dick uttered dryly. He took air before going on "It seems that the same way you think I forget quite too often how fucked I am, you forget that I care about this." He extended his arms indicating the surroundings. "As passionately as you keep trying for everybody to realize how exceptional you are and how hell of a CEO you could make, you fail to keep in mind that Mueller is my name, and as a Mueller I'll do anything in my power to keep this company prosperous." His voice was resonant "I'll do it, even if that means I'm stuck with you for the rest of my life."

Arnold swallowed hard. He heard Helga doing the same. But before he could guess what would be Helga's response to his vicious commentary, she has already reacted.

"Oh-oh- _OH!"_ she exclaimed enthusiastic "Such passion!" She leaned forward clapping her hands "Henry would be so _pleased_ to hear you talking with such fervor!" she cleared her throat "_I'll do it even if that means I'm stuck with you for the rest of my life." _She recited mimicking his intonation. Dick leaned back in his seat. "It'd mean that his teaching had knocked some sense into your head."

"I don't think his teaching has something to do with it." Dick mumbled as to himself.

"You don't?" she laughed "Then what?"

"It was most probably the infamous 'Stubborn as a mule Mueller's streak'." He said with a grunt.

Arnold frowned with suspicion. Had Helga's mockery actually appeased his maliciousness? For real?

"Oh, poor thing!" she uttered in mock sympathy "Streak inherited from loving Grandpa Franz?"

A surprising throaty mirth filled the room "I doubt such stubbornness had been a streak possessed only by him." Dick laughed "Your beloved Henry is full of it."

"Yeah, the poor thing." Helga sighed "Well, I think we shouldn't curse all old Franz bequeaths, should we? I mean, just look around." She drew a circle in the air with her pointer finger "Who cares that all he gave you in life was… What? A lollipop?"

"Why are you so mean to me?" Dick looked at her with a wounded expression. "For God' sake, I was a little kid!" Arnold frowned. He was right. Helga was being mean. He felt sorry for Dick. But actually they were being mean to each other because what Dick said a minute ago was pretty rude too. Arnold frowned. It was like a give and take; like a teasing between buddies, but theirs wasn't precisely light, but actually harsh. It meant to hurt. It was hard to take a side. "I'm not talking about your father, am I? What do you think Grandpa Franz would say if he knew that the Pataki blood could be running someday his beloved company?"

There it was; the counterattack. Arnold didn't know if he should breathe more easily now that the forces were more leveled. There was a choke-like sound on Helga's side before she could manage to speak again.

"The Pataki blood is already managing the company, you idiot!" she spat; leaning in "Old Franz might as well be rolling over in his grave I know; but because he actually knows that the Pataki _and_ the Schneider blood _TOGETHER_ are running his empire-"

"Oh God!" Dick opened big his eyes, surprised.

"Yep!" she chortled "Haven't you seen it? The storekeeper and the saleswoman's offspring are the king and queen of the hill." She raised both hands triumphantly.

Dick's surprised expression remained on his face until he finally asked. "Is Henry aware?" Helga shook her head indolently and then shrugged. "I guess nobody knows who they work for." He ended.

"You betcha!"

"Who do we work for?" Dick asked after the calm silence that followed Helga exclamation.

She took air deeply before replying. "Who indeed?"

And they stayed like that; looking into each other eyes. Or at least Dick was. He was staring at her who couldn't be doing other thing than staring back, Arnold guessed. He blinked suddenly, and then asked.

"What about Henry? How's this foundation thing going?"

Helga sucked air, taking a paper in her hands and then replied feigning nonchalance.

"Why don't you ask him?"

Dick snorted. "You know that's not going to happen… so brief me."

Helga hesitated for a couple of seconds.

"He's finally getting some work done. Got help. A nice guy; some lawyer. They have the plan settled. There're gonna be five schools. Difficult neighborhoods all around the country for kids who really want to get out of their-" her long eyelashes went up and down "- sad environments." Helga leaned back in her chair and looked up at him "You really should be more… invested, you know? Henry worries that you won't support it."

"Henry does not need me." He said on the defensive; leaning back in his seat too.

"He does." Helga dipped her head; then clicked her tongue. "Will you?"

"What?" Dick raised his chin in a challenging way.

"Support his Foundation?"

He snorted.

"Of course I do. Who could say no to such a noble cause?"

"Is this disdain which I see before me?" Helga uttered in a poetry-like fashion.

"Do you think it is?"

"You know I still have a hard time trying to read you."

Dick let out a slanted smile. "I'm all sincerity."

"This time around?"

"This time around." He confirmed with a mischievous smile.

"That's great to hear." She sighed "Then I guess you'll be attending to the Charity Ball hosted by the City Hall next March?" she asked cheerfully.

"Charity Ball _what_?! Again? - _God!" _he seemed surprised _"_It's a year already?!"

"Yep. A year, my dear." She chirped. "Shocking, right?"

"Tell me about it!" he exhaled, still looking dazzled.

It was right, Arnold thought. Soon it would be a year since the day of the Ball; the day he found Helga again. He wondered why the discovering seemed to be kinda frightening for them both, when it had been a blessing to him. Was it the surprise to realize time flew? That they were a year older?

"It's expected that you attend." Helga pointed out in sight of Dick's lack of reaction.

"Why? He'll be launching his foundation then?" he asked. "Right there? In a public event?"

"No, I don't think they'll be ready yet" Helga shook her head.

Oh, no! Arnold thought with nervousness as he loosened his tie. They definitively won't be ready yet.

"What?" Dick snorted "You mean Wonder Boy wouldn't have the work done by then?"

"What makes you think he's a Wonder Boy?" Helga snorted. Arnold leaned back with a smile on his face.

"Oh, come on! Henry got him for the foundation. A nice guy you said. It _HAS_ to be a Wonder Boy."

Helga hummed in skepticism "If you say so."

"Typical of Henry, right? To get the work done through others. Wonder Boy takes care of his Henry &amp; Helga or Whatever Charitable Foundation and we both, as the demons we are, take care of his Money-Making Machine."

"Money-Making Machine?" Helga scoffed "Money-Making Machine that would be yours some day!" she leaned forward "I can't believe you! Is that a complaint?"

"How could you complain when you're invested with such a gift?" Dick's deep voice sounded strange to Arnold ears.

"It sounded like a complaint to me." There was laugh in her voice, but there were also caution.

Dick puffed. "We've already discussed it, aren't we?"

"Was that a discussion?" she waited "I didn't think you were being serious." She spoke in low voice. There was a pause in both sides "Were you?" Helga finally asked, looking his way "Dick?"

He didn't answer back. Helga waited for a few seconds.

"Peter?" Arnold leaned forward. Dick looked absent. His sight was fixed at some point of the desk between his papers and her book. He looked as if he hadn't listened to her at all. Helga waited a little longer "Willie?"

That made the trick. He raised his bright blue sight and met her eyes with a glare.

"Willie?" his voice had turned dark "Don't you go confusing me with some whole other body." He cursed "I'm not fucking Henry."

Helga spluttered before she could come with a reply "What the hell is wrong with you?" she leaned forward.

"What's wrong with _you_?! It's not my fault that you're so disappointed!" he uttered as he looked about the papers on his desk.

"_GRRRR!"_ Helga growled sonorously, getting up and leaning over the desk. "What did you just say?! Look at me when I talk to you, Mister!"

He got up as well and looked down at her "You heard me."

Helga seemed taken aback although Arnold couldn't see her face. "I thought we've already left that behind," she said in a whisper.

"I'm only voicing a valid concern." His voice was dry, accusatory.

"We already talked about it!" her voice was low but determined. "It was left behind!"

"You talked. I listened. That doesn't mean anything." He poked the table with his finger.

"You said you knew! You said you got it, you idiot!" she finally seemed to recover "How it doesn't mean a thing?!" She pointed to his chest. "What is it? We have to start over every time you feel like it?!"

"Maybe you should've thought twice before you agreed in following this weird game!"

"Weird game?" Helga sat down looking despondent "Which one?" She asked to the air. Then she raised her face to look at him "You realize you're actually admitting it's only a game?" She asked in a mumble.

"How can I do it?" Dick leaned intimidatingly over her, like an inquisitor, his eyes bright. Helga pulled back slightly and remained silent. "When I know nothing? All I have is your word."

"You have Henry's word too." She replied.

"Henry's word?" His voice was full with spite. "The old man does whatever you ask him to do."

In opposition to the wicked smirk that was forming in his face, Helga didn't react, nor did she look at him. She closed her eyes for a few seconds and then opened them to take a deep inhalation. She straightened up. Taking the notebook in her hands she flipped its pages.

"Let's get this through." She uttered in normal voice, still looking down "I see covered most of it. Brazil and India are up to date so there's no point on going over there." She turned the page "Denver, Colombia and Philippines are balls that are in your court now-" Arnold realized Dick was looking at her with a deep frown and cautious eyes "There are new politics about travels and logistics, I don't know if Security already talked to you-" she raised briefly her sight to look at him and went on "but there will be tons of troubles because orf that; we have to rearrange itineraries and whatnot. I'll have no patience for that so I'm leaving Kitty in charge. And finally-"

"So that's it?" Dick seemed upset. She raised her sight and frowned "You're giving up?"

Helga blinked a couple of times and then put up a blank expression "If you're talking about me following your mental games, yeah, I give up."

"Mental games? It's what you call them now?"

"What would you call them then?" she countered "How everybody calls them, huh?" She looked at him hard "You already admitted you understand. Now you want to take it back and play dumb. Well, it's up to you. I won't go there. Think what you want; do as you please; and leave me alone. I'm through. I promise I won't bother you again."

Dick remained silent observing her with a growing scowl. "You're no fun anymore." He finally said.

"God! I can't believe it!" Helga stood on her feet "And you expect that I believe you'll honor our agreements when you're not even able to keep you word on something you already admitted?"

"Hey!" Dick froze for a while but then his attitude changed; in a second. The hard expression of his face turned into a smile now. "You don't have to take it to heart!"

"How should I take it then? With humor?" Helga was still upset.

"How should I?" he countered; putting his serious front again. "With humor?" he scowled.

Helga inhaled deeply before responding. "I guess it's your problem."

They both looked at each other from their places. For the life of him Arnold didn't know what to make up of that all. What was going on? What all those upset expressions, changing moods and half assertions meant?

"I guess that's it." Helga slapped the papers in her hands "I'll see that you receive a copy of this report."

"Wait!" Dick had reached her side and stood in front of her to stop her leaving "Alright. You're right. Let's get to the end. I'm leaving town in two days." He vacillated "So I'd rather see those papers now."

"It's getting late…" Helga pushed past him.

"Hey! Come on! Don't be like that." He shook his head when she didn't halt "Tell me what's this thing with the new politics, then." Helga ignored him "Helga!"

"Talk to Security" she shrugged.

"We're not allowed to travel together anymore? Is that it?"

"I thought you said you didn't know a thing." She turned briefly to look at him.

"I heard Mike saying something of the like but I didn't pay attention. So it's true? - Why?"

Helga finally turned around and sighed. Her back resting against the door. Arnold finally got to see her face. God! She was gorgeous. Silky golden hair; eyes highlighted by the blue of her dress; tall sophisticated feminine figure…

"Risk management. New global policies." She shrugged "They can't compromise the continuity anymore…" her voice sounded apathetic.

"The continuity of the company?" he chortled derisively "So we don't die at the same time or something?"

"Yeah; some of the like."

"They must do more than that, don't you think? A wider contingency plan?"

"I guess we should trust they'll do their job."

"Can we trust them?"

"They trust we do ours." She made a face. "Can they trust us?" She looked at him in the eye.

Dick slid his hands into his pockets and walked towards her.

"You know," he started once he stood a few inches apart. "The other day, I was thinking about…"

"What? About buying our own aircraft?" Helga laughed, shaking her head as she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. For a second she fixed her sight on him. Arnold's blood ran to his feet. He froze. Helga's forehead creased just for a second, but then her eyes left him. She turned to Dick "I think you'd choose the worst moment to make such a sugges-"

Arnold stopped listening when he realized Dick had followed her sight. All the color left his face. Arnold stopped breathing seeing his reaction. Helga kept talking, but no one paid her attention. She paused as if awaiting a response from Dick when the blonde man went ballistic.

**"Fuck Helga! What the hell are you still doing here?! Did you see what time it is?"** he banged his fist on the wall besides her violently.

Helga cringed involuntarily. "Jesus!" she moved aside. She looked at him, shocked, and cried out "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Your fucking voice; that's what's wrong! It's fucking annoying!" he gave a step forward, intimidating.

"You're sick!" she pushed him hard.

"After an entire afternoon spent at your side how do you expect me to be?!" he wheezed "I can't take it anymore!"

Helga shook her head, bewildered. "Dick, you really need to go and see a doctor! You're crazy!"

"Typical of you! Always trying to fix everything just by calling me crazy, right? Oh, you're so clever, Helga!" he said acerbic.

"Stop acting like a crazy man and I'll stop calling you that." Helga pushed him again and turned around.

"Yeah. Go, please go! And stop harassing me!"

She opened the door.

"Consider it done."

For a moment Arnold thought Dick was going to follow her but he remained impassible. She stepped out and closed the door behind her. She didn't slam it as Arnold expected. Dick stayed motionless for a few seconds; as if waiting for her to come back and throw more insults at him. Arnold expected it too, actually, and dared to breathe once again only when she didn't. But when Dick locked the door and stomped towards him and he stopped breathing altogether.

**"_FUCK!"_** he roared. He took a stapler from the table and threw it all the way through the other end of the room, where it broke into pieces. "_How long you've been here?"_ he hissed. Arnold swore he'd never seen a man this pale. His eyes were glaring "**_HOW LONG?"_**

"I only went out for lunch." He replied; his voice went out weak. He cleared his throat before going on "I- I've been here the rest of the time."

"_How much did you hear?"_ Arnold's lips became a tight line. Was he really asking him that? _"**HOW MUCH DID YOU HEAR?**"_

"Pretty much everything." He gulped..

Dick's face was livid; his eyes murderous. He was having problems to control his breathing. Arnold didn't dare to blink; he wanted to be alert in case a blow was coming its way down to him.

"How the hell it happened?" the blond boy didn't know if he heard right. The other guy's voice was a barely a whisper.

"Well," Arnold let out a nervous laugh "You told me I should work in here and-"

**"_ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?!" _**Dick slammed shut Arnold's laptop. The boy took it and put it aside.

"_And-"_ Arnold's voice cracked for a second "And I didn't realize when she came in. I didn't pay attention." he rushed "When I realized what was going on it was already late." Arnold couldn't believe this all was actually happening; and that he was apologizing right now to no other than Dick Mueller.

Dick breathed a couple of times before going on.

"_You shouldn't let it happen."_ He said through gritted teeth "This is inexcusable! I don't know how you let it happen. You're smart guy, for God's sake! You should've looked for a way to let me know you were here! I'd have gotten rid of her sooner! _It'd be my problem then, you understand?!"_ he turned around and ran both hands through his hair with frustration. Then grumbled and turned to see him straight in the eye "But you were here and you listened in. You shouldn't have, but you did…" he paused; his sight darkened "And I can't find another reason why you did it... _except that it was what you wanted."_

"What do you mean?" Arnold asked guardedly. He didn't want to give credit to what he was suspecting.

"Snooping, huh? That's what you wanted?!" Dick looked at him with disgust.

"Snooping?" Arnold asked with disbelief.

"God! Who are you? You're exactly like her, aren't you! What've you two been doing with all the information you learn in here, for Chrissake?! _You're our lawyer!" _

Arnold observed him with the mouth wide open. "I'm not sure if I understand what you're implying?"

"I'm not implying! I'm saying it loud and clear. You're spying on us!"

"It was an accident!" Arnold raised his voice, pointing towards the door "I swear to God it was an accident. I didn't mean to overhear!"

"Why you didn't let me know you were here, then?!"

"I thought you knew!" Arnold cried out "It happened all of a sudden. I didn't pay attention at first. When I came into realization it was way too late. Believe it or not it didn't occur to me to send you a message or anything. My mind was blank. I didn't know what to do. I was just begging to God it ended soon."

Dick walked up and down the place. Arnold covered his face with his hands and exhaled. This was unbelievable.

"This is getting out of proportion." He said despite his instincts told him to remain quiet. "Dick, I didn't mean to hear. How could I know what was about to happen?" Dick turned to see him. His expression was absolutely threatening. Arnold went on with resolution "And even then, I assure you I'll-"

"How much did you hear?" he asked again "Do you realize you're under a confidentially agreement, don't you?"

Arnold exhaled long. He didn't know if it was because he knew he was facing his worst fears, or because Dick looked less frantic. "Of course I do. I improved it myself." He snorted.

Dick looked at him with mistrust, but at least he wasn't that mad anymore. Arnold stared back. His face had regained some color, but it was now blotched. His eyes were still abrasive.

"Then it _is_ here where you're going to show us what you're made of." His lips crumpled spitefully "You heard nothing, you saw nothing, you guess nothing." He whispered menacingly "If you're true to your word then you're never going to share a single word, plan or idea about whatever you saw in here. What is more, you'll not even think about what you listened in opportunistically-"

"It was an accident!"

**"_EVER!"_** Dick shouted. His jaw was clenched.

Arnold nodded.

"I'm glad we reached that understanding."

Arnold fought back to pull a face. He took a deep inhalation before nodding again. Throwing him a last vindictive glance Dick walked back to his desk.

"What does Helga has to do with it?" Arnold asked. Against his better will of course.

"Leave Helga out of this. Less than anyone, she'll never know anything of this. Understand?" Arnold nodded docilely for third time and he hated it. "Now go."

Arnold took his laptop and opened it dreading he'd find it broken. Fortunately, it was intact.

"Them why you said I was just like her?" he turned to see his boss once again knowing he was risking his neck, but being unable to stop himself.

Dick seemed confused for a second, but then his expression darkened again.

"I didn't mean her," he informed dryly "but your girlfriend."

Arnold blinked twice. "What does my girlfriend has to do with anything?"

"Come on!" Dick scoffed, turning around.

"What does Claire has to do with any of this?" Dick didn't react "I'm serious."

He left his papers alone and looked at him intently for a few seconds. Then he shook his head.

"I guess you should go and ask her."

"Why?" A mock smile appeared on the other man lips. Arnold couldn't help but freeze when cold shiver ran down his back.

"Look, I don't care about what shit happens under the Shortman's roof, alright?" he turned back to his work; then he added in a low whisper "but maybe it's about time you know the harpy you're been living with."

. . .

* * *

**I don't own Hey Arnold!**

**Sorry for the long waiting. This chapter was hard to put together.**

**Thanks for reading. My best wishes for this upcoming 2016 to you all. A big hug and endless thank yous to my reviewers: Jose Ramiro, Nep2uune, Presley Rox, CarlinJ83 and guests. Love your feedback.**

**January 9, 2016.**


	29. Mrs Mueller

**Rocket to the Moon**

**Chapter Twenty-Nine**

**Mrs. Mueller**

* * *

. . .

"_How does it sound? Helga Mueller…. Your dream, isn't it?" _

"_Huh?" _

"_You ready for that?" _

"_No… I mean… I don't know… -I wouldn't be the first one."_

* * *

_. . ._

"Oh, it's nothing like that." Arnold grumbled almost against his will "Not that bad, I mean…. I think." he concluded

"But, are you still living with her?" The woman asked as she taped up another file box. "Or you moved out. I'm not sure if I understood."

"I just moved out..." He admitted reluctantly as he placed another file box in the cart. "Two days ago."

"It took you a while, huh?" She insisted, noticing how the young boy avoided her sight. Grace smiled wisely. She always knew Arnold was a gentleman through and through. He wasn't one to talk openly about his problems; or about his exes, as in this case.

"I was sleeping on the couch as of late." He chewed out.

The woman looked briefly at him as he placed a third box on the dolly cart and she ended sealing her own box. It was awkward for him, she knew. But seh also knew he looked like someone in dire need to get some heavy stuff out of his chest. She could make a better shoulder to cry on than those loose-lipped coworkers of him, right? Besides, she really liked Arnold. The boy had earned his place by his own right in the office's setting. She wasn't going to betray his – _if he ever gave in, that's it_ \- trust_._

"And you said she didn't give you any answer?" Grace went back to a previous point in the conversation. Arnold looked briefly at her before shaking his head. "Nothing at all?"

"No," he huffed as he stewed the boxes straight "Not a single word. She doesn't admit or deny anything." He grumbled.

"She's tough, huh?" For all answer Arnold raised his brows. "And can't you go back to the guy who give you the tip and ask him what he meant?"

Arnold directed his gorgeous green sight to the doorway when Stan Wright and Mike Davis walked past it not without throwing them a curious look.

He shook his head. "That's not possible." He said curtly.

Grace hummed in thought. "And what do you think he meant?" She insisted on. "Because you have to have an idea, don't you?"

"Yes, I do." He came to pick up the small file box she'd just taped up. After he placed it on top of the others he went on "I think she either interrogated him-" he shrugged "Or she was indiscreet." Grace frowned so he offered details "Claire's like that, you know? She assumes things and then she goes and talks about them as if she really knew what she's talking about."

"She likes gossip, huh?"

"You don't have idea" Arnold rolled his eyes.

"So what are you going to do now?"

"Well, for one I'm really busy getting accustomed to my new apartment." He pull a face "It feels strange. I mean, even getting used to a new frying pan is the dead!" He exclaimed. Grace smirked. Seemed that he didn't like to be alone.

"That's why you waited so long? I mean, it's been over two months that the thing started. I'd thought you'd leave sooner."

Arnold still looked distressed when his hands ran through his hair. He then exhaled with uneasiness.

"It wasn't easy," he frowned and looked at her despondently "I mean, I had plans with the girl. I loved her. I thought we…" he trailed off. "we-"

"You thought you were going to be happily ever after?" she sneered.

Arnold pouted. "No." he paused "Actually, I realized a while ago that we didn't belong together." He admitted "But even so… I don't know… it's hard to think that's not going to happen now, you know? Even when-"

"Even when you know she's not the one." Grace ended for him "I know. Believe me, I know."

She then let out a yearning sigh. She actually also knew how it was when you knew who was the one but the guy in question just didn't seem to think the same way.

_'Probably just because he was already married', _her mind reminded her._  
_

"Yeah." His reply brought her back from her own thoughts "She's not the one." He nodded. They remained silent for a while until he asked "Where does everything go, huh?" He has a funny look on his face "The wedding reception that's never going to happen? The idyllic honeymoon? The cute kids that are not going to exist anymore?"

"Seems that you were really smitten," She threw him an understanding look.

"I wasn't, actually. But that doesn't mean that I stop wondering."

"_What ifs_," Grace pronounced aloud, like a complain. "What would be of our despair without all those what ifs?" she exhaled. Looking again at the boy she added "It's too recent, Arnold. I guess it's normal that after all those years together you're now experiencing some grieving." She smiled with sympathy "It wouldn't be normal if you weren't."

"I guess you're right," he finally said letting out a sad smile.

Grace smiled back.

"I appreciate your trust," she said.

Arnold patted her arm and walked to the end of the room. The construction workers that had been working here had just left leaving a mess behind. It was almost three pm and being a Friday it mean that people in the office were more excited than usual; getting ready and waiting for the clock to tick five o'clock so they'd finally go off to enjoy their weekend.

She had already managed to find a place to accommodate Arnold in Floor 29th, but first some modifications needed to be made. The place used to be a storage and copy room. The copy room was going to be relocated under the stairs where Arnold desk used to be. The files that were stored in there should be now relocated in the building located on 106th and Madison.

"And what about your new place? Is it pretty?" she asked.

"It's tiny!" Arnold laughed "but yeah, it's cool and… I don't know," he wriggled his blond brows in mock arrogance "Fashionable."

She laughed at his expression "It's Soho, right?"

"Yeah, it is." The boy couldn't help but let that the satisfied smile remained on his face.

"Congratulations!" she said with sincerity "What did you do to get a place over there? Who did you have to sleep with?" she teased "They say there is a waiting list to get a place all over Downtown."

"I'm actually in friendly terms with a guy who owns some places down there" he said without the slightest hint of arrogance in his voice. This really was a lovely and special kid, Grace thought. She was happy Henry had developed a fondness for him too. Arnold deserved it.

"Really? What's your friend name? Donald Trump?" she joked.

Arnold laughed wholeheartedly "Yeah sure!" he snorted "He-who-wants-to-be-our-future-president you mean?" he rolled his eyes.

"God help us!" Grace crossed herself quickly. Arnold looked at her with amused eyes and she dared him with her sight to question her catholic principles. He didn't as she supposed. As she'd stated before, Arnold was a nice kid. They continued with their job.

Well, it was her job, actually. Arnold had gentlemanly offered his help when he realized the amount of extra work that the modification brought over her already busy agenda. He was frowning again when she decided to go on.

"So… do you miss her?"

Arnold shrugged his shoulders without turning to her.

"I guess." He finally said "It's weird. I miss funny things, you know? Her weight on the other side of the mattress, for instance." He exhaled "Her smell. The way she arranged things around…"

"She kept the old apartment for herself? Or she also left?"

"She kept it." He informed "Her best friend moved in actually."

Grace nodded. The nostalgic tone Arnold was using made her remember when she left her old house in Dakota to come to the big city for good. She exhaled. There was too much emotion back then with all the people that moved along than she didn't pay much attention to the fact that she was actually leaving her hometown. Actually, there was a bunch of people who left their hometown back then, but everybody had their own way to deal with it. Helga had been one particularly happy, Grace recalled. She'd loved the moving and her fervent enthusiasm and hopes for the future helped her to get over her own melancholy really quick.

Helga Geraldine…

Grace couldn't help it. She evoked her face, her hard-features... and how they hid an extraordinarily kindness. Not all the people who knew her got to know the real Helga. Those who did would never forget her. Grace's heart always filled with so many emotions when she thought of her. Guiltiness was the one that roamed over the rest of them, even when it included lighter feelings like gratitude and friendship; or darker ones, like jealousy or envy.

"I think we're ready." Arnold's optimistic voice brought her back from the depths of her mind. He pointed to the end of the room when he'd put order in the rest of things that were going to remain in there. For now.

"Oh, Arnold, thank you." She hugged him and kissed his cheek. "You're the best!"

Arnold snorted, amused. "I just put those things together."

Grace waved her hand and then turned around to look for her tablet.

"You know the guys from maintenance never replied my request?" she raised her sight "I think it'd be on us to take this to the lobby and then to the van." She threw him an apologetic look.

"No biggie." He shrugged his shoulders. "At least they supplied the cart."

She felt like kissing him "Always looking on the bright side!"

"Someone has to," he replied enthusiastically. Grace chuckled. Something about this boy made things look brighter.

"We're not leaving anything behind I hope." She said as she led the way out of the room and to the elevator as Arnold pushed the cart behind her. It was three and a quarter now. The office was in full swing. They stalled as she made sure she has her things with her and Arnold went to pick his messenger bag from his desk. Then they waited a little longer as she checked the transport would be waiting for them downstairs. Once confirmed, they headed for floor 26th where the official exit was located.

Being a sunny late afternoon almost the beginnings of spring, a weekend and moreover a payday made Grace be aware of the good mood that prevailed on the place. As they waited in the hallway people keep waving goodbyes, teasing them and whatnot. Then it repeated itself again and again as they waited for thesecurity guard so he approved the 'shipment'. She rolled her eyes when she and Arnold locked eyes after knowing the guy was 'really busy' and they have to wait a little longer.

"I think I owe you a dinner after all this work you've been through." she said.

"Sounds like a date! I'm flying solo now, as you know." He winked at her. Grace played along fanning her face with her hands and pretending bashfulness.

"So the van is already here?" Arnold asked after a small pause.

"On its way." She nodded "They said they'll be here at 3:30." She informed looking into the screen of her tablet again; then motioning for him to avoid the bunch of people from Human Resources who just left their meeting room.

"The elevator keeps coming and coming now that we're stuck here." Arnold complained. Grace turned to him with an indulgent smile.

"I know. When we want to leave we won't see it anymore, I bet you." She grumbled "And you know what is worse? Three and a half it's the time when people in lower floors get out." She recalled, raising her brows with annoyance.

Arnold made a face, but that was all. Other than that he didn't seemed bothered at all for being stuck with an old lady like her the rest of his workday and probably a few hours into the evening.

He stood patiently and as they waited; trying to look anywhere but to the hall, where people were still working. She looked at him as he entertained himself with his cellphone.

"Thank you for listening." He said a minute later; his voice low. "I think I really needed let things out."

"No need to thank, honey." She smiled to him "As I said before I appreciate your trust." She paused "You know where to find me anytime you feel like you need an ear."

"Thank you," he nodded.

"Do you have any friends…? I mean… friends that you can talk about this?" she asked then.

"Yes, I do." He nodded, looking briefly down the hallway. "But he lives in Washington. He's married and has a daughter." He smiled. "It's kind of hard to match our free times."

"I see," Grace nodded understanding. "What about Helga? Do you talk to her, at all?"

Arnold turned to her.

"Uh huh." He nodded tightly "Though I haven't talked to her about this whole situation... with Claire." He said somewhat bitterly.

"Why not?" Grace frowned.

He snorted. "Well, she seems pretty busy with all her work."

"Oh, come on. She's a nice girl. I'm sure she'll find time for you. You're good friends after all, aren't you?"

"Yeah, yeah, we are, of course." Arnold raised his brows "But… well…" he vacillated "You know…." He seemed insecure about how going on. "I bet she had her share of problems. She doesn't need more things to worry about."

"I see," Grace bit her lip. "I guess you heard about the ugly discussion she and Dick had last Monday, didn't you?" Arnold threw her a knowing look.

"Last Monday too?" he mocked.

"Alright." Grace let out a defeated moan. "In their defense I'd say they are always at odds; at all times; since the very day they met. I think they're gonna end their days fighting over something stupid and they'd die happy." She added with frustration "They are like children, and Henry's done no good playing the indulgent father's part that incites competition instead of comradeship."

"But Henry is not their father." Arnold scoffed.

"But they both see him as a father." She shrugged off his words.

"Really?" Arnold scoffed. She frowned, surprised to see the nice Arnold showing an unpleasant emotion for the first time. "Dick is always antagonizing him on purpose…"

"Just like a son would do." She bowed her head in partial agreement.

"And Helga…" he said with resentment "I really doubt Helga sees him as a father at all. They are… they are together, for God's sake! They are-" he lowered his voice.

"Arnold!" Grace hurried to stop him before he said something he'd regret "Henry and Helga aren't a couple." She took him by the arm forcing him to look at her. "They are not together." She assured him.

"Come on!" He protested. "Henry's-"

Grace shook her head seeing his disbelief. She knew all too well why he thought that way; why some people thought that way, in any case. She always knew this wasn't going to end well. It was Henry's fault after all; he could be really stubborn when an idea came to his mind. She huffed. If only it wasn't her who had to deal with the consequences of his acting.

"Arnold. Listen. I know Henry. I've known him for over fifty years. I can tell you for sure that he's never seen-"

She stopped herself. They both turned towards the hallway where an agitated murmur arose.

Forgetting the surroundings and all that it enclosed, Grace found herself beaming instinctively at the man that was coming over, leaving a trail of excited giggles in his wake.

"My, oh, My!" she hooted, feeling invited by his self-satisfied smile. Giving a step forward she checked him out openly; making evident her sight took its time to admire his lean muscular legs. Deliberately, she went up to admire his flat abdomen and the rest of his well-formed body clad in a tennis tee and shorts. Her hands pricked to touch him but truth was that she feared his reaction. She settled by taking him by his arm. "Where to?" she squeezed it.

Dick's put his phone aside to pay her his whole attention.

"You choose, m'lady." He mumbled with husky voice and mischief in his eyes.

"_My Goodness!"_ she almost choked "What if I choose something that just can't be said aloud." She said low enough to be heard only by him. She turned around as she pretended she was fanning her flushed face. In order to have a good look at him, some girls had gathered down the hallway and in every possible place where the elevator hall was visible. She grinned their way. How could she blame them? It was not a daily occurrence that a fine specimen of a man walked around the office showing too much skin. Grace frowned shaking her head pretending to scold them all. Then she provoked a new wave of jealous complains when her arm rounded his waist and hugged him tightly.

"You're so warm," she moaned "but baby, you know it's still cold outside?"

Dick chuckled. He turned around then. As on cue, most of the girls turned their heads away and played dumb. Grace scoffed. She then looked at Arnold and caught him giving Dick a quick once over.

Grace laughed quietly. It was quite a surprise to realize Arnold possessed similar feelings with the rest of men population; that he also got jealous when another man stole girls' attention. She kept looking at the young blond as his attention was fixed on the elevator's display while he feigned indifference. She didn't know why she'd supposed Arnold was different, but then she realized that the fact that he wasn't was, actually, a comforting awareness. What kind of man would you be if you didn't feel envy at least once in a while?

She was about to say something to the young blond when another realization struck her. She looked at them both with attention. Dick stood good-naturedly as he drew out his silver iPhone again, but he was pouting. An over-conscious Arnold was checking the stacked boxes. What was going on? Weren't they in talking terms? Wasn't Arnold Dick's lawyer actually? She looked up with a frown. '_What've you done this time?' _She asked in her mind to the taller blond.

Dick glanced at her and wriggled his brows. She snorted. Then, reluctantly, she freed him of her grip. She'd disregarded it was quite an inappropriate gesture for the office. She'd blushed in embarrassment but the look in his blue eyes was kind as he took the phone to his ear. She sighed, contentedly. It was nice to see him in such good spirits.

"Where the hell are you?" He asked imperiously on the phone. Grace rolled her eyes. At least she'd enjoyed it as it lasted. "I'm waiting by the elevator. Bring your ass down here in this moment. The car's already-"

He was interrupted when the staircase door swung open and Helga Pataki came through it.

"Geez!" she grumbled "Hold your horses, you Roger Federer!" she pointed at his chest with her cellphone "Some people are actually busy, you know?!"

"The driver is already waiting."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." She dismissed him with a bob of her head "He can keep waiting." She threw her phone into her bag and then fumbled with all what she had in her hands. "Here." She handed him a jacket that matched his ensemble. "Wow!" she stopped to give him a good look "Looking good, Mr. Molinero!" she whistled, mockingly.

Dick snorted. "You ready to kick some asses?"

"As ready as it gets!"

"Good." He nodded. "What are you gonna do with that?" Dick asked then looking with distaste at her laptop case and her huge handbag.

"What do you think I'm doing?!" She countered "Working! Doi!"

"Now?!" he asked with disbelief.

Helga rolled her eyes and smiled briefly to her before pressing the elevator button that was already lit.

"Yeah, now. Right here in the elevator." She pointed at the boxes "On top of Arnold's boxes, how about it?"

Dick let out an exasperated exhalation. "I need you focused." He uttered with annoyance.

Helga pressed the button again. "At your command." She mumbled, turning around and leaning her back against the wall. She turned then to her. "Gracie…" she threw her a slanted smile "You're not coming to cheer us up?"

"Nope" Grace shook her head apologetically "We have to take these things to the old building," she pointed to the cart. "But you know I wish you the best. What about Henry?"

Helga shrugged her small shoulders gracefully. "He said he'd see us over there." She threw a cautious look towards Dick as the blond put his jacket on.

"That's a nice outfit." Grace pointed to their clothes. The plated white-and-red court skirt she wore barely reached her mid-thigh and showed off her also long and toned legs. Helga curtsied with mock coquetry "Did you buy them?"

"Nope," Helga bowed towards Dick "Kaitlin did. Has she good taste or what?" she gave a little turn as the elevator doors opened and she stepped inside once it was empty. "Don't even think." She warned to the couple of guys who arrived just now and intended to board along them. Then she kept the door open as she, Dick, a too quiet Arnold and his cart got in.

"What about the racquets?" Helga asked Dick once the doors shut close.

"They are in the car." He replied casually. Helga was about to ask again when he went on "Of course I brought up your favorite." She nodded in appreciation. Her hand slid into her bag to take her phone when he glared. "For God's sake! Gimme that!" Taking the heavy bags from her hands he censured "I thought you were going to take the rest of the day off."

Helga whined unenthusiastically "I'm having problems with a damn report."

"Forget it. You're not gonna fix the world tonight, Helga. When it's not a financial statement then is a budget. Work never stops coming. You know that."

"But,"

"We _all _know that." Grace butt in "He's right, Helga. Just relax. Focus on the competition. Do your best. Regardless of the outcome you guys should go then to a nice place to celebrate." She suggested them.

They both scoffed. Dick mumbled something on the line that without a victory there was nothing to be happy for.

"Really?!" She scolded them. "And what if you lose? Who cares? Nobody's gonna miss another trophy in the Trophy Hall. Come on! Lighten up. Have a couple of drinks. Nothing is going to happen. Your workload will still be here, waiting for you on Monday morning, I promise."

They both stirred uncomfortably. Grace grumbled as she shook her head. These two would never change. They rather die than share some social time together. Then she pointed at Arnold.

"Arnold here and I are going to have dinner together." She said with delight "We've worked hard. We've earned it."

Arnold confirmed her assertion turning around with a small nod.

"That'd be a nice change!" Dick mumbled with scorn.

Grace turned to him with a questioning look but he ignored her.

"Hey, Arnold!" Helga chirped "I don't know why, but I'd swear I've seen you out there wherever I go."

"What?!" Arnold frowned.

"Yeah! At first I really believed it was you and that was odd that never managed to get you. I don't know. I guess I was just seeing things." She chuckled. "Last week it happened in Tijuana. I clearly saw you towards the end of the hallway, and went off determined to find you once and for all, but when I reached the place and asked the guy over there he told me there was no '_gringo'_ in the plant. Well, no other than me, that's it." She narrowed her eyes "You sure you haven't been in Tijuana lately?"

"Nope." Arnold looked at her with a frown, but then he smirked "Not since college anyway." He shrugged his shoulders casually. "What?!" he smirked seeing Helga's expression "I was a sad and lonely freshman."

Dick chortled heartedly. "Too bad that I was at the other side of the country." He said.

Helga rolled her eyes. "Guys!" She moaned.

"What?" they both replied.

Grace saw Helga elbowing Dick playfully, and then he shoving her back in response. Grace hid a satisfied smile. Through the mirror doors she kept her eye on the couple clad in white and red as they stood as far as they could from each other. Helga gasped suddenly and turned to her companion. "Damn it, Dick!" she exclaimed humorously "It was you, right? You finally got that damn Time Machine fixed, right?" She pushed him playfully. "That's why I'm seeing Arnold all around the world, right?"

"No." Dick replied with a dead serious frown. "What we fixed was The Cloning Machine. I thought I've already told you so."

"And you're making Arnold's clones to send them everywhere? Football-headed slaves who work for free?"

Grace laughed at the nickname. Arnold only shook his head with resignation; as if he was already used to be named that. Dick glanced briefly his way before replying.

"They actually need tons of lubricant." He grumbled in complain. "But hey! Can you blame me? I needed some efficient body." He shrugged his shoulders in mock innocence.

"Well…" Helga threw Arnold a quick once over. She added then, half-convinced "I guess you could've made a lot worse."

"I know! It could be you." Dick put on his frightened expression "God forbid!"

The doors opened right then and Helga shoved Dick out of the cubicle and into the congested hall. "Get out of here, bucko!" She turned around to face them "Can you believe this guy?!"

"Aw, Helga." Grace let out a delighted response "It's just the way he shows his care." The old lady heard Arnold's snort at her side. Helga only rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, sure!" She grumbled as she followed out.

Grace also stepped out. She and Arnold wished them luck after Helga waved goodbye. Her old wise eyes followed the couple as Dick took Helga by the elbow and guided her through the busy hallway and to the main lobby; and then to the set of double doors that lead to 45th street where the Mercedes was waiting to take them all the way to Flushing Meadows, Queens; where the Chamber of Commerce held their Annual Tournament.

She beamed proudly seeing that the pair of tall blonds attracted most of the sights in their way out. Dick leaned towards Helga as he spoke. She nodded amiably just before they were out of sight. Grace sighed deeply feeling the fresh air she just inhaled reaching the last of her alveoli. It was a wonderful sensation.

"You seem very pleased with yourself today." Arnold's miffed voice made her blink twice. He had managed to get the heavy cart into the hallway all by himself. She felt a pang of guilt that made her give him a thankful smile.

"I really appreciate your help and company today, Arnold." She said.

The blond boy nodded as he looked at her with a nice smile. Then he directed his sight to the entrance doors and sighed deeply.

Grace recalled Henry telling her that he suspected Arnold had a crush on Helga. _'What a shame!'_ Henry had pronounced sorrowfully. He suspected Arnold's infatuation had probably started once he saw what had grown into the girl he'd let go when he was young and inexperienced; all what he'd lost back in the days when he valued shallower qualities instead of the force of nature that was in front of him.

But who could tell, right? Who could know if Arnold really cared for her? And if he did, how deeply was his care?

"They look so handsome together, don't you think?" She couldn't stop herself. Maybe she only wanted to see his reaction. Or maybe she finally dared to say aloud something she'd been wanting to say in disregard of whatever uneasy feeling the young boy at her side could be experiencing. He kept looking into the distance. There was no reply. He only let out a faint shrug. Grace went on. "Seeing them like this makes me go back in time. It's a shame that she never got to see it. Helga. It was her dream, you know? She always said they'd end up together…" she paused "That it was only matter of time that they-"

"Her dream?!" Arnold scoffed with skepticism. "It was Helga's _dream_?!" She smiled observing that manifest impatience again. She couldn't help but smile. It was really odd seeing him like that. He almost looked like a spoiled kid "You have to excuse me here Grace, but I think you're dead wrong. As far as I know Helga, I know she'd nev-"

"_WHAT?!"_ She couldn't believe her ears! He stopped himslef probably a cause of her expression. She'd put her hands on her hips and was looking at him with a cocky smile. The cheek of this boy, she puffed. Pointing towards the doors, she said matter-of-factly. "That's not the Helga I'm talking about."

"Not the…?" he paused, following her pointer finger "She's not- . Then what? - Who? - I mean-" she was able to read in his eyes his confusion "Who are you talking about?" With a deep frown and weak voice he finally managed to ask.

"Who do you think _I'm-talking-about_?" she drawled "Gosh!" she rolled her eyes "Helga Mueller of course!"

"_Helga Mueller?!" _Arnold coughed. Grace scoffed despite his shock. There was no way he didn't know!

"Come on Arnold! You spend your days with the nose glued to those old books!" She yapped "Don't tell me you never saw Henry wife's name in there?" he looked at her with round eyes "Helga Geraldine Mueller...?!" His green eyes became so huge that it was funny; his jaw fell to the floor "Yeah! That's her!"

"_She has Henry wife's name_?!" he asked with a puff.

"Yep!" she patted his cheek playfully "I bet this was Henry's exact expression back then when he met her!" She snickered. "I mean, just imagine_ that_! To know all of a sudden that Big Bob Pataki named his girl after **_YOUR WIFE_**?!" She rolled her eyes "It has to be a shocker!"

.

* * *

. . .

**No poseo Oye Arnold!**

.


	30. Breakfast at Tiffany's

**Rocket to the Moon**

**Chapter Thirty**

**Breakfast at Tiffany's**

* * *

**AN. I'm sorry it took so long. I had a bad time because of work and stress for a family issue. I'm kinda better now but I feel a void inside me; like insensibility; like no passion. Like Helga when she drank Madame Blanche's love potion. I keep going though; I pulled this off. It covers all what I wanted to in this chapter but I'm afraid Arnold turned out a bit dull -like if he's on Prozac -. I hope it doesn't turns boring to you and that it answers one third of the answers that are about to be answered. I already have next two chapters in drafts and I really hope doing a better job with them. Thanks for your understanding and loyalty.**

* * *

. . .

"Hold on."

There was an impatient exhalation in the other end of the line. He knew Arnold was fretful as he waited for him to give him an answer.

_"Gerald!_" his friend grumbled.

"Just a sec." he put the phone down and stood with his little girl in his arms. Walking up to the crib he tried to put her down. "_Shit!"_ the girl stirred. She opened her eyes and complained. "Alright, alright." He said softly. Gerald heard then Phoebe throaty warning in the other room and moaned inwardly. Then took Minerva in his arms and walked back to the rocking chair to lull her to sleep again.

He observed the dark curly eyelashes of his daugther flickering until her eyes close and only then he took his cellphone again.

"I don't know, man. Why are you asking me that?! What happened?!" he asked quietly after letting out a long exhalation.

"_Did you know?"_ Arnold asked in a rush.

"That Helga was named after Henry Mueller's wife?" he asked back. "Of course I did. It wasn't precisely a secret. How's that you never heard of it?"

"_How's that I never heard...?!" _his best friend of his entire life grumbled in the other side of the line. "_Really?!"_

He resisted the urgency to roll his eyes. "Man! You're asking me?! You're been there for _how long_? A year now? And you knew nothing?"

"_No one ever told me. I never read it anywhere- I just-"_

"Hold on, man" –he moaned because Minerva complained again. Gerald was sure she could feel his uneasiness and that's why she refused to fall asleep. The door open ever so slightly and Gerald could see Phoebe's form silhouetted against the light of the staircase. He managed to hide his phone as he directed her an apologetic smile. _'_

_''What is taking you so long?''_ She grumbled in low voice.

He shrugged his shoulders, pointing to their girl. Phoebe shook his head with dissapointment and walked off. Gerald pulled out his cell phone again and lowering his voice he resumed his conversation.

"Sorry man, but Phoebe's moody; bad day at work. It's kinda hard to talk right now." He whispered. He rocked in the chair as he pacified the girl who kept stirring uneasy in his arms. He hated what his friend could be thinking of him. The former cool ladies-man _'devenu'_ a harassed husband and father-of-one. "Can it wait?"

"_NO WAY!"_ Arnold almost shouted.

"Shit, man!" Gerald was tempted to hang up on him. Surprisingly the girl didn't move this time and he breathed deeply again "What the hell happened? Why are you asking me that?"

"_I just found out where Helga's name comes from."_ He informed _"How long you've know it?"  
_

"I don't know. Haven't given a thought in long time, bro. And actually I didn't care. It's just a odd story from the past."

_"Why you never tell me?"_

"Who knows? ... But it's not as if I was trying to hide it from you."

"_Let's say I believe you, ok? ... Now tell me... What do you actually know about it?"_

"I know is that it's a long story-" Gerald started. "-that I don't remember right now. Phoebe does, though. I'm sure she'd make a better teller than me."

_"I believe you," _Arnold exhaled_ "Put her on the phone."_

"Yeah! Sure!" Gerald cracked a laugh but then he shushed himself immediately when his daughter shook in his arms "Not a good time, Arnie!"

"_You're afraid of her?"_ he had no idea what his friend could've heard in his voice that he laughed. _"Are you telling me Phoebe is some kind of cruel matron that punishes you?" _Arnold snorted _"And here I was, thinking you two were the picture-perfect couple; the perfect family." _

"Yeah! Your dreams can go through the drain now." He retorted with sarcasm.

He could tell Arnold was rolling his eyes.

_"Gerald! Come on! No more beating around the bushes. I need to know!"_ he insisted.

"Need? _You 'need'_ bro?" now it was Gerald turn to laugh. "Alright. What do you _need_ to know?"

"_Why Bob Pataki gave Helga the name of his ex-boss wife?" _Arnold asked right away.

"That's easy." Gerald replied without missing a beat, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world "He was in love with her."

He could hear Arnold's snort in the other side of the line.

"_He was in love with her?! That's it? You drop it just like that?!" _he scoffed_ "Weren't you Hillwood's most famous storyteller? The urban legends' keeper?"_

"Weren't you the world savior? Goody—two-shoes Arnold?" he retorted "Since when you became cranky? Spending time with the Pataki does that to people?"

_"GERALD!"_

"Alright man. That's what I know."

_"So it's true? He was in love?"_

"You already knew it or what?

_"I…"_ Arnold hesitated _"I'd lie if I say the idea didn't cross my mind... but I thought it was too far-fetched. So is it true?"_

"That much is true."

_"She loved him back?"_

"Mmmm-" Gerald paused "As far as I'm concerned, she didn't. She had him in great esteem. They were good friends. Bob – mmmm" Gerald hesitated "I think back then Bob was like-"

There was a faint noise in the other bedroom and Gerald's next words died in his throat.

"_GERALD!" _A muffled but demanding voice was heard. To be such a petite girl Phoebe could really be frightening_ "Who're you talking to? It'd be better Minerva is asleep or I swear to you-"_

"Gotta go!"

_"But-"_

_.  
_

* * *

.

No buts. The line went dead and Arnold tossed his phone to his side. He exhaled containing his fury. He needed to know! He leaned back in his couch as he closed his eyes. He recalled the scene that took place in the afternoon, back at the lobby of the building.

.

* * *

.

He'd frozen. Grace had shaken her head. His confusion amused her. She walked on. It took him an entire minute to follow and reach her by the set of doors.

"Why Bob Pataki named Helga after Henry's wife?" he'd asked. Truth was that there were several questions in his mind but that one was ready to be shot.

"Why indeed?" She replied, still entertained. "Seems that _The_ _Brute_ had a tender core after all."

"The Brute?" Arnold frowned.

"One of the secretaries - don't remember her name - called him that. Once. Long ago. Bob had just beaten up…" she stopped herself and turned to look at him "Someway, the name stuck. People kept calling him that after the incident. It was after Bob was fired, of course. He wasn't around anymore."

"Why did they fight? Bob and Henry?" Arnold asked, playing dumb '_Why two men get into a fist fight, Arnold?' _He remembered Henry asking all those months ago. "Was it because her?"

"Shhh!" Grace's expression turned serious "We don't talk about them, Arnold! Never! Let alone in public!" she chastised him in that old fashioned way only an old lady could do. And with that she turned her nose up in the air and walked on.

Later, during diner, Arnold brought the subject back but Grace had changed her mind. She didn't look that amused anymore.

"Look Arnold. I know you mean well and… I guess it's only natural that you feel curiosity, being Helga your friend and all, but," Arnold was surprised to see her looking actually coy "The same way I'll keep your secrets forever I also keep theirs. Henry is not only my boss. He's my friend; I've known him my entire life. And Helga… Helga deserves all my respect." She became too serious now "She was a great woman; an excellent human being who doesn't deserve that we talk about her in a bad way… or in any way either. I wouldn't dare to say a thing that could tarnish her memory."

"I don't intend-"

"Please," her green eyes looked at him pleadingly.

The magic word settled the matter.

.

* * *

.

Arnold came back to reality. He looked at cellphone to check the time. Eleven thirty-five. He shook his head. In Washington it was only eight and a half, for God' sake! Arnold shook his head thinking back in his harassed-looking friend. Poor Gerald! So much for the former ladies' man! He snorted.

He stood and walked to his window and let out a contented exhalation. Truth that he had a terrific sight. It was not the perspective particularly, but the fanciness of the neighborhood itself. Then something brightened in his mind. _Fanciness! Rhonda Lloyd!_ He hurried back to his coffee table and took his phone. It was kinda late for a call so he went right for the reliable Whatsapp.

_A: _"_Hi Rhonda, __"_ he added an smiley for good measure. He hadn't talked to her since that evening in October.

_A: _"_It's been long! _

__A: _"How'r you doing?"_

_A: _"_Remember we said we should keep in contact? Well, I meant it. I'd be nice to see you again." _

__A: _"What'd you been up to? I'd like to see you, you know, to catch up. I just moved to Soho this week. We're almost neighbors now. What about going for breakfast one of these days?"_

_A: _"_Send me a line whenever you feel like it."_

And he left it at it. He hoped not to sound too lame. Or too pushing. He got up and went to the kitchen where he cleaned up a bit before going to his bathroom.

He didn't know what had coming onto him, why he felt this fever for knowing everything. Why Bob Pataki named Helga that way? He frowned to his image on the mirror as he washed his teeth. He remembered Bob always calling Helga by her sister name. Wasn't that ironic? Why to put to your daughter a name of a woman you're supposedly in love -but you weren't married to - only not to use such name to call her in a daily basis?

He left the bathroom and fell onto his bed. Did Bob actually love the other Helga? For real? What about Miriam then? What about his 'perfect' family?

He frowned again as he threw his covers over himself. He thought about the past. He tried imaging the old furniture store. And the bunch of people working in there. He pictured it like if watching an old black and white movie; like that one of the Coens starred by Billy Bob Thornton. A big store located in the main street of a small town. A young Henry in there; and his father; and Bob, the other Helga, and a bunch of employees and customers. The offices located to the bottom of the store, an old fashioned cash register…

What the hell had happened in there? What stories developed? Why it was so important for him to know?

Did Helga –as Helga G. Pataki – know the whole story? What did she think about it all?

"Geez!" he grumbled to himself. "All these times that I judged Claire for being so annoyingly curious and here I am! Feeling like I can't keep living anymore without knowing!"

He closed his eyes when his phone chimed on his night table. He opened an eye and lazily took it. He knew most of the newsletters he was subscribed to arrived in the early hours of the morning, but got surprised when he saw Whatsapp having a new message. It was from Rhonda. He opened it right away.

"_Hey Arnold! Nice to hear from you."_

"_I've been trying to to contact you too but then I never did."_

"_Sorry :(__"_

Arnold was smiling as the messages appeared one behind the other at a surprising rate.

"_I'm happy you did it though :) Great we're almost neighbors now"_

"_Mmm. What about tomorrow? Ten o'clock at Tiffany's?" _

'Tiffany's? Arnold frowned. Wasn't that a jewelry?

Half seconds later a map appeared on the screen.

"_Let's say eleven. I'm not an early bird on weekend ;)" _

"_See u tomorrow, babe."_

He started typing then.

"Got it."

"See you tomorrow Rhonda."

"Have a good night."

Still smiling, he put his phone at his side on the bed and rested his head on the pillow again. He looked to his right side, realizing he kept leaving that side of the bed alone. Puffing, he shifted so he occupied the center of the mattress.

"That's better," he mumbled to himself. Then his phone buzzed against his chest. He looked at the screen.

"_Oh, I'll do it. ;)" _

He grinned. The winky face gave everything away. At least, someone was having fun tonight.

.

.

* * *

.

.

The next morning he woke up early. He couldn't keep himself from the excitation of knowing he was meeting Rhonda. He'd finally be able to understand the past that linked the Patakis and the Muellers. Why it was so important to him was something that he'd probably never get. What would Rhonda think of him? Because his hunger for knowing? It kinda worried him but, - Would she care? Or she'd appreciate the opportunity to tell a juicy story to an eager listener?

After a quick shower and getting dressed in a pair of jeans, a tee and casual jacket he left his apartment. Tiffany's –for real- was a short walk. It was still early when he located the place so he decided to go for a walk to kill time.

The city was showing its spring colors. There were more green in the streets and more blue in the skies than the previous week. The parks and sidewalks were decorated with colorful flowers; it was a nice change from the cold, long and dark days of the receding winter. Arnold recalled then. Helga's birthday was coming on with the beginning of the Spring. He looked at his phone. _Next Thursday? _He frowned. So Helga would turn 31 on Thursday? He bit his lip. He should start thinking what he could do on Thursday to celebrate her; what could he get her?

The thought clung to his mind the rest of the way until he was back at the diner. He asked for a coffee and while waiting he observed the decoration of the place -based on Breatfast at Tiffany's, Audrey Hepburn, pearls and her little black dress - until a very well-known voice called his name.

"A... Arnold! Hey!" the voice hesitated "Wha… what a coincidence!"

Arnold blinked twice. "H- hey!" he stuttered. What a coincidence indeed. Claire was standing by his booth; her wide smile almost dazzling him. Wow! She was pretty.

"How're you doing? Getting to know your new neighborhood?" She asked. Looking at the empty seat in front of his with a half smile, she added "Having breakfast all by yourself?"

"No, not at all." Arnold stood awkwardly. Should he shake her hand? Hug her? What was the protocol in this case? Meeting your ex for first time since… "I'm waiting for a friend," he informed "I guess I came in early."

"Right," her smile turned sly. He frowned, confused for a second, but then he recognized her expression.

_Wait a moment! Was that pity?  
_

"What about you?" he cleared his throat.

"I came in with some friends actually… to have, you know… Breakfast at Tiffany's." She bit her lip. Then pointed to a booth situated in the opposite end of the place. Two guys and one girl were throwing curious smiles their way. Brenda wasn't in there.

"Who's your friend?" she called back his attention. "The friend you are waiting for, I mean?" she cleared.

_Forever curious Claire,_ Arnold smiled to himself. Then he paused.

_Or maybe she didn't believe he was waiting on someone. Could be that possible__?_

"Rhonda…" he started "I don't know if you remember her. The girl…"

"_Vogue_ girl?" Claire asked with a strange smile. Arnold nodded. "Are you two… seeing each other?" she bit her lip awkwardly "Or-"

Forever _tasteful_ Claire, Arnold thought with disdain; wishing he'd be as impolite as her to dare to roll his eyes right in her face. She looked again at the seat in front of him and he gestured for her to take it, which she did without vacillations.

"No." Arnold replied calmly. "We're just friends. I… I'm not seeing anyone yet. I don't think I'm ready." He turned to her table where people in there still watched them with interest. "What about you?" he leaned in.

"Oh," she had the decency to blush. "You mean because of Joshua?" _Joshua!_ Arnold resisted the urgency to gag "Of course not, silly!" she waved her hand dismissively "He's just a friend. He's Gina's friend actually. I only met him yesterday."

"Have you slept with him yet?"

**_"ARNOLD!"_** she chocked. Her face turning beet red.

Arnold snorted, not knowing how to feel by the fact that she'd already moved on "Just kidding!" He looked back to the other table. "I had the impression that he was jealous." Arnold shrugged his shoulders as if nothing; wishing he'd feel actually indifferent but not being able to pinpoint what did he feel exactly. It was an uncomfortable feeling though. Looking at the guys he realized he had no idea which one of those dorks was Joshua. Not that he cared, really. He only wanted to….

_What did he want, _he asked himself.

"Really?" a smug smile appeared on her face but she didn't look back to the other guys. Her rich brown eyes were fixed on him. "And…. How are you doing anyway? How… how are things at work?" She asked after a small vacillation.

"Good. As always." He said shrugging his shoulders "I finally got my own place, you know?"

"Wow! That's great news!" Arnold nodded. She seemed actually happy for him. Truth was that Claire's interest on his wellbeing was never in doubt actually; as it was the fact that she didn't care that he looked like a fool in somebody's eyes. "Seems that Dick's tantrum of the other day got a result, didn't it? Made that the ugly old lady finally got you a place."

"Don't call her like that." Arnold chided, looking at her in the eye. Claire shrugged her shoulders dismissively. "You might be right. His tantrum might force them to find me a place. Lucky him, don't you think? Always getting what he wants. Nothing like me. My tantrum only got me to be thrown out of my own house!"

"Jeez!" Claire cursed, looking to a side. "Let it go, Arnold! I came in peace."

"In peace?!" he scoffed "What is so terrible that you couldn't tell me?! That you can't still tell me even to this day that we are not together anymore!"

"It's not terrible!"

"Then why Dick seems to think so badly of you?"

"It's nothi-" she frowned and looked at him fixedly "Really? He thinks badly of me? You never said that before."

"What was the point?"

"How badly?" she bit her lip.

"What the hell should I know?" Something in her attitude annoyed him.

"Really? Why the hell you brought it up?!" she retorted defiantly.

He looked at her while his head shook with annoyance. But then it took him only a second to change his mind. So she wanted to know? Well, this was going to be harsh.

"He seems to think you're whore." He uttered plainly.

"_WHAT?!_"

"Sorry. I didn't want to say it, you but you insisted."

"You mean he said _THAT_?"

"Well, not in words…"

"Then why did you say it? It's your opinion?" she puffed "Are you're making this up? Why? To get us even? Are you still so angry because I dumped you that now you're making this up?!"

"I'm not making this up! Listen to me! I don't know what makes you think you know him." he grumbled angrily "You don't know him. I do. And I know what he thinks because I've heard him speak ill of people thousands of times before. His vision about everything is very particular. So, if he got to talk about someone in pejorative terms is because he thinks the worst of them. Now, I wonder what you could possibly do -or say- to make him think that way."

"I…" Claire observed him with a mix of awe and embarrassment. Arnold wondered if she still doubted his words. She might choose to think he was making this up instead. "Are you sure? I mean… aren't you mistaking his-"

"I'm not mistaking his words." Arnold snorted "Every time something happens I know a disdainful note is coming my way. Last night in the elevator it happened again."

She frowned "What do you have to say about me anyway?"

"I don't even need to. It's not only about you, you know? It'd become some sort of trend topic. You know how it is, someone brings up wives or girlfriends and he's always up to make it about me; always jumping to the jugular and he does it with great pleasure-"

"With great pleasure…. that he took it after me?" Arnold looked at her with disbelief. _Was she thrilled?_ It was unbelievable. Who the hell this girl was?

"You seem to like it." He couldn't help but comment.

She shrugged "I never thought I'd make an impression."

"When it comes to Dick I'm not sure that's an achievement." She shrugged her shoulders again, fighting back her odd smile. "What did you say to him that could make an impression?"

She snorted and kept her smile as she looked back at her table. "Come on, Arnold! Just stop it!"

"What?" he kept his voice calm "I have nothing to lose. I mean, what else can you do? You already dumped me and threw me out of the house…"

"You make it sound as if it was a terrible thing to do."

"You throw me out."

She exhaled.

"I… I came over to see how you were doing-"

"I'm doing fine"

"You sure?" she frowned, somewhat worried "You don't seem that fine to me. I came in peace and you only keep questioning me about the same things that make us break up in first place. I don't know you, but I'm over that point…. Can't we be friends?"

Arnold exhaled and looked outside through the windows. Why was he being such a dick? It wasn't as if he really _wanted_ her back, was he?

"I guess we can." He said in low voice.

Claire smirked. She extended her hand to put it on top of his.

"I'm happy to hear that." He nodded, calm, looking at her hand on top of his. "So, how about your new place? Is it pretty? Do you like it?"

"Yeah, it's nice."

"I don't know why you keep complaining. Soho is by far a better neighborhood than where up there." She patted his hand "And it's closer to your job."

"I'm not complaining."

"How did you do to get a place so soon?" she looked at him fixedly, getting serious "Did August help you? Is it one of his places?"

Arnold didn't reply. He turned to see her group again. They seemed to be ready to leave. Arnold pointed to them with his chin. "What about Brenda? It's kinda _odd_ not seeing her by your side."

Claire made a face. "She's not feeling well."

"Why not? Is she sick or something?"

She looked at him with a frown "August dumped her." She informed.

Arnold leaned back in his chair "Oh, I see…. Sorry to hear that"

Claire's shrugged. "It had nothing to do with you, I guess," her eyes narrowed. "Although… Are you still friend with him? August I mean?" Arnold nodded slightly. Claire looked at him with suspicion then "Have you talked to him?"

"I… Nope. Not lately." he lied. He had been never a good liar and Claire knew it.

"When was the last time you talked to him? Yesterday?" she asked with high pitched voice. "Did you know they broke up the day before yesterday?"

"I… didn't." he evaded her eyes "You just told me."

"Oh, my god! I can't believe it!" Claire leaned back shocked "It was you, right?"

"Wha…"

"You were 'the friend' that talked him out of the relation? The one who told him Brenda was 'no good' and that he should dump her?"

"I…"

"That he could do a lot better?"

"Ok, Claire, listen. You're making this…"

"I can't believe you, Arnold! Who are you? What kind of man you've become?"

"Look, those weren't my words exactly" Arnold defended himself "In fact, you know I'd never…"

"So it was you?!"

"I didn't deter him from being with Brenda if that's what you mean." He exclaimed.

"Why did you have to mess with them? What did you care?!"

"He already wanted to break up with her! He had taken the decision. I only happen to be the friend who knew it beforehand."

"And you didn't trying to stop it?"

"Why would I? August had his mind done. I didn't tell him to dump her!"

"What did you say, then?" Arnold hesitated. "Arnold."

"I just told him there was no point in being together when a relationship doesn't make you happy."

"Oh, really?! Aren't you a hypocrite?" Claire almost shouted "It wasn't you who didn't want our relationship to end even when we haven't been happy for - I don't know - eons now?"

"I was happy…" Arnold countered "And as far I was concerned you were happy too." Then he added, biting "Or maybe you just were pretending."

Claire seethed. Arnold could see as her round eyes became slits. "Pretending?" She hissed. "I got you totally fooled, asshole!"

Arnold blinked twice, shocked "Are you saying that you cheated on me?!"

"Is it the only thing you can think of?" Claire snorted. "Nothing else? Something like I wasn't that happy anymore? No wondering why or when I stopped being happy?"

"Was that it? Aren't you changing-"

"The fact that you started paying more attention to -"

"Arnold! Is that you? Oh my God! I almost missed you!"

.

* * *

.

She gripped the back of his chair to effectively make a halt. The sudden darkness of the place took her unprepared. Usually her magical 2015 Spring Collection Prada sunglasses adjusted themselves to the excess or lack of light in a flick, but today it was other story. She took her shades off to find Arnold getting up and welcoming her.

"Arnold, darling!" she kissed him the French way (twice each) "Sorry I'm late." She turned to the girl seated across him and smiled down to her "You didn't warn me we'd had company. I'd show up earlier." She extended out her hand "Hello there, Rhonda Lloyd."

"Claire…" the girl stuttered. Rhonda kept her plastic smile. This vacillation was not a surprise; she was used to girls like Claire reacting this way to her. They'd had barely time to give her a quick once over before being forced by social conventions to show manners. Didn't she know women needed time to give a good appraisal to the potential threats, especially one as chic as her? "Claire Walker."

"Oh, that Claire!" her smile broadened "Finally! It's a pleasure getting to know you-"

"She was about to leave," Arnold rushed in. "Right, Claire?"

"Oh," Rhonda said with disappointment. "Really?"

"Yeah," the girl slid off her seat "I was only keeping him company until your arrival." She threw an apologetic smile her way "I'm glad we finally met, Rhonda."

Rhonda nodded. "Same here," She had barely time to bid farewells when the girl scurried away. Rhonda directed Arnold a questioning look before taking the seat Claire'd just left.

"Did I… interrupt something?"

"No. Not at all." Arnold pursed his lips.

"You sure? She looked kinda upset."

Arnold hesitated for a few seconds "We're not together anymore".

"Oh, that explain everything." she made a pause "I'm sorry to hear that, Arnold."

Arnold nodded, tight-lipped. "It's alright." He shrugged his shoulders

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he nodded "_Now _I'm good."

"You want to talk about it?"

"Nah!" He shook his head "There's no point. It'd be a waste of time."

Rhonda observed him carefully before nodding "You're really alright, aren't you?" he fixed his sight on her "I mean you don't look hurt. You look… _annoyed _if anything, but not hurt"

"It has a long way coming, Rhonda." He exhaled "I knew it would happen, sooner or later. She knew it'd happen at some point too."

"How are you holding up?"

"Fine I think. It's… strange getting back to being single again. Surprisingly, it feels like if nothing happened."

"I guess I know what you mean."

"But enough about me. What about you?" he asked her, eyeing up and down. "You're beaming. It's that a new look or what?"

"Oh my God! You noticed?" she squealed. Rhonda couldn't believe it. That Arnold, a straight guy, would notice it. "Yeah, I had a haircut with Gunther; who is - as you must know- one of the most sought after hairstylist in town!" she buried her fingers in her mane of hair to shake it, feeling how it was full of life "I chased down this appointment for like weeks, oh" - she rolled her eyes. "but I'm happy I did!"

"Great for you!" Arnold chortled. Rhonda inhaled deeply. It was so nice to see Arnold. She'd forgotten how it was to enjoy the company of a guy with a nice attitude for a change. "And I guess you're also doing well in the…" he vacillated "dating department."

"Why you'd ever say so?" she leaned in with a playful smile in her lips.

"Because your text from last night." He also leaned in and pointed a finger to her nose.

"Well," she leaned back in the seat and exhaled "I guess it has no point on deny it." She giggled with delight.

"That's what I always say. If you're happy you should show it. I don't know why some people insist in hide it." He exclaimed.

"I totally agree."

They both got silent as the waitress reached them. She brought her a coffee and refilled Arnold's cup. Once they placed their orders Arnold went on "Where were we?"

"You were talking about people who hide their relationships." Rhonda stopped herself once said that. She looked at him attentively.

"Right." He was observing her with curiosity and then asked probably in sight of her slight reserve "Why do you think they do?" Yeah, Rhonda confirmed her suspicions. Arnold wanted to talk about Helga.

"I think sometimes it's not easy to going public… maybe?" She shrugged her shoulders.

"Not your case I guess?"

"Not _now_."

"Yeah. Last time I saw you I think you said you were dating a…" He took a sip of his coffee then cleared his throat "-married man"

Rhonda let out a chuckle seeing his prudery, - S_o no Helga, huh?_ \- but then exhaled with resignation "Let's not talk about that."

"Fair. We're even I guess." He took another sip of his coffee.

"Besides, we came here to spend a nice time, didn't we?"

He nodded. They made small talk for a while; catching up with their respective jobs; then they talked about Arnold new apartment. It turned out that they lived just a few blocks away from each other. The waitress came with their orders in no longer. Rhonda smiled seeing Arnold's plate containing bacon and eggs, pancakes and a milkshake. It included apple slices, of course."

"You like your breakfast balanced, I see. Carbohydrates, fat, whole milk… fruit of course."

"Hey! It's the most important meal of the day. Nothing to do with yours, I guess," he pointed her plate. "What's that? Birdseed?"

"This is a high-protein breakfast" she showed off her plate. "Spinach and egg white omelet - _no yolk-_ alfalfa sprouts and chia-birdseed juice." She said as she pointed each item with her fork.

"Sounds delicious." Arnold said, mockingly.

"Why you…!" Rhonda exclaimed eyeing his plate again, thinking of a scathing retort, but then she just shrugged her shoulders "I'll let go just because you're just coming from a break-up."

"Oh, thank you Miss Lloyd."

She smirked as she started eating. Arnold did the same.

"So," Rhonda started after a while "I must confess I was surprised when I saw your text."

"Sorry it was that late. It was just that I've been wanting to call you for a while but I never manage to do it. You know how it is."

"Yeah, I know" she nodded her head in understanding "You're already in bed when you remember. Yeah. It happens to me all the time."

"It made me happy to see your prompt reply. That you're also up for this."

"Well, I've also wanted to give you a call and all; just like you. I was happy to see your message. The other time when we met at Helga's place it felt so short. We didn't have time to talk everything we wanted to."

"Yeah, I know." Arnold made a pause, as if thinking. Then he went on sounding genuinely attentive "I guess after so many years apart a few hours are just not enough. We should make it again. Now that I'm all by myself again we could meet at my place."

"Sounds great."

"You said you and Helga keep meet religiously every month, right?" he asked, interested.

"I wish!" Rhonda snorted "But that's not quite right, you know?"

"Really? Why not?" he asked, apparently surprised by the info.

"Well…" she directed him a thoughtful frown "Let's see…. You joined us when?"

"October," Arnold informed, seeing as she took a bite of sprouts to her mouth.

"Alright," She nodded. "We met again on November, but we skipped December and January."

"You missed two months?"

"Yeah," Rhonda nodded "The plan was meet every month, but you know how it is. Carrying it out is not always easy. Work and… stuff… get in the way."

"Understandable," Arnold agreed "I remember Helga being out of town most of December."

"That-" she took a sip of juice "And you know that the beginning of the year is the Award Season: Golden Globes, SAGs, Oscars..." she puffed "The office it's like a mad house. It was a miracle that we made it last month." She exhaled "You don't have idea how much both of us need it." She gave him a solid stare "We'd gotten so used to meet each other frequently and when we fail like this it feels like we're missing something vital. It's like coming home, you know? It gives us the chance to re-energize and touch base; it's our feedback."

"Like reconnecting with who you really are?"

"Exactly!"

"I know what you mean; I felt it too, you know? After I saw Helga again first; and then again when the three of us met last October."

Rhonda leaned in. "Yeah!" she beamed "Then you know what it is. I don't know what I'd do if we ever stop. We both appreciate it. Helga and I. That's why we try to not lose it even; not when we're seeing someone seriously. That's the biggest risk, you know?" Arnold stopped eating to look at her with attention. She went on "We can fail a month or two - like we'd probably do again- but then we just know we're in debt."

"Are you missing the reunion this month?" Arnold face fell "Why?"

"I'm afraid we'll do." she also made a face "Yesterday should be our Friday… but Helga had already told me she wouldn't make it."

"Why not?" Arnold perked up again, but feigned nonchalance. Rhonda hid a smile.

"She had plans," she said casually. What was the point in being explicit? Arnold made a questioning sound as he ate. Rhonda smiled that know-it-all smile of hers and snorted "Oh, you know - _plans._"

Arnold frowned and his sight got lost in a distant point behind her.

"She said yesterday she was having problems with a report." He mumbled. '_Surely that was what kept her from a restful sleep last night' _Rhonda snorted to herself. Arnold resumed eating and then took a sip of his coffee. "You know," he went on "Yesterday I learned something…" he made a purposive pause "_odd_…"

"How odd?" Rhonda raised her sight ever so slightly; almost uninterestedly. Arnold let out a small smile.

"About Helga Mueller_._" He finished.

"Really?" she frowned "What did you learn?"

"Her name, actually." He stated simply. Rhonda looked at him blankly for a second. Then blinked.

"You mean you didn't know her name?"

"I did not know her name…" he nodded. "I didn't even know Helga middle name was Geraldine; I swear I never did!" He cleared up probably because of her unwavering frown. She leaned in, showing him he'd got her interest "And now – suddenly - I learn that Helga, you know, our Helga, the old Helga G. Pataki was named after Helga G. Mueller!" he made an odd gesticulation "After Helga Mueller nonetheless; Henry's wife. I mean…" he paused for drama "Is there a story or what?"

"You mean you _don't_ _know_?"

"What is there that I don't know? Are they… related or something?"

Rhonda snorted. "Of course not." She left her fork aside and leaned in. "So you didn't know anything?" Rhonda felt the anticipation she used to feel when you know something the other part doesn't; and the pleasure to know that that other part –in this case Arnold- is dying to know. Her eyes shone. Oh God! She still has it on her. She was The Gossip Queen to the end. "Nothing at all?"

"I don't know what to think." Arnold shook his head. "The only think I could think of is that Big Bob was the most devoted employee - _ever_?"

"_As - if!"_ Rhonda scoffed, waving dismissively her hand in his face and leaning back in her chair with gluttony. "That's not what Henry Mueller thinks. Quite the opposite, in fact."

"Big Bob was not trustworthy? That's what Henry thinks?"

"Well, I guess he was trustworthy… to _his wife_." She raised proudly her brows.

Arnold looked at her in awe. "You mean… Bob and she… Helga?" he seemed to have problems to call late Mrs. Mueller by her first name.

"Of course not." She waved her hand again, but now in an admonishing fashion. "Helga was a decent woman. Henry didn't deserve it, but Helga fidelity never faltered."

"Meaning?"

"Oh, Henry was such a dick! He was not the most faithful of the husbands."

Arnold blinked twice. "And Bob and… well… her?"

"You mean Helga?" Rhonda smirked at his prudish manners. "They were just friends." She paused in sight of his doubts "I don't know Arnold. I guess we must understand that back then the enterprise was younger; smaller. When Henry started the expansion he traveled a lot. The old furniture store was left in Helga's hands. Then, as Henry spent more and more of his days out of town and only God knew in whose arms, Helga was left behind. She was an old fashioned woman," she smirked "-an almost extinct type whose values were obligation, work and sacrifice. She worked hard for the family; she loved her husband and her child. She was raised to believe it was normal that men behave that way. She had to be there to be the rock." Rhonda's dark eyes looked at him fixedly "But that doesn't mean she didn't appreciate having by her side someone to rely on; someone who'd help her; someone who listened to her and made her laugh."

"Someone who appreciated her and… Why not? Maybe loved her… in silence… someone who asked nothing in change..." Arnold put on a sad face. "I can't believe that someone could be Bob Pataki?" he added in a murmur.

Rhonda observed him carefully "Hey!" she chided him "Everybody has the right to fall in love."

"Yeah…. But Bob Pataki?!" Arnold asked in disbelief "I mean, you remember the guy!" he gestured something tall and big.

"You think the man had no feelings?" Rhonda snorted "He was Helga's father after all! Maybe he was as crazy and passionate as her!"

Arnold blinked, apparently surprised, like he'd never thought about it. Sure thing that Rhonda had been surprised too, back then. Who would have thought, right? But when you think twice you realize Helga must have inherited such passion from someone; the odds that it was Bob and not Miriam were right there.

"What happened then?"

Rhonda pouted.

"Henry found out. And as the macho man he was he just couldn't stand it. "

"Well, it wasn't as if his wife was cheating on him, was it?"

"No. But there was another man blowing sunshine in her ears; a man who one day dared to call his attention in public about the way he neglected his wife." Rhonda said pointedly "As you must guess, Henry didn't like a bit Bob's insolence and things went ugly."

"They fought…"

"Sure they did."

"Because of Helga"

Rhonda pouted thoughtful "Most likely because they both were a pair of machos who wouldn't let the occasion pass on."

"And Bob ended beating up Henry's ass." Arnold smirked.

Rhonda looked at him with a frown. "I don't know what you are talking about Arnold. It was Henry the one who rose victorious."

Arnold left his coffee aside "I heard Bob knocked out Henry."

"Well, yeah, but Henry fired Bob and left Helga without her platonic love; without her right arm." Rhonda said matter-of-factly. "Bob lost his work; his motivation." Arnold hummed "What did Henry lose?"

Arnold puckered "Respect?" he ventured.

"You think?" she paused "To men like Henry respect is given by what they achieve in the business world, and he achieved tons. A fight, a blow and losing an employee mean nothing to him in the end."

Arnold fell silent "That sounds cold." He finally said. "Cruel."

"That's life." She sighed. "It isn't fair."

Arnold remained thoughtful for a while. "I still find hard to believe Bob was in love with…" he snorted "It's a weird coincidence."

"Yeah, it is." Rhonda also seemed thoughtful. "It's a coincidence. Weird or not."

"And then Bob went to name his daughter after the woman he loved?" he frowned "I mean, Miriam – his wife- had nothing to said?"

"Miriam didn't know. So far I know they used to call Helga by her pet name: 'Hellie'." Rhonda raised her hand to call the waiter "So she went by Hellie or Mrs. Mueller. That's the name Miriam always heard."

"It must have been a surprise when she finally found out."

"Tell me about it!" Rhonda snorted "I can't even start to imagine her shock. Not only to discover your husband is crazy in love with other woman but that your own daughter has her name! I mean, not yours or his mom's, but hers. The other woman's name. _Forever!_"

"Well," Arnold pulled out his collar "Bob didn't cheat on her. It was only-"

"Really Arnold?!" Rhonda threw him a hard look "Your girlfriend… ex-girlfriend, what's her name? Claire –alright- you marry her; she falls in love with some other guy. She dreams of him; she thinks of him all the time; she puts your son his name. Should I go on?"

"I get your point." Arnold raised his hands defensively in front of him.

"Of course you get my point!" Rhonda nodded accusatory.

"That's why she became… Miriam… you know?" Arnold made a gesture of drinking.

"Pretty much I guess." She nodded. He remained thoughtful

"And I guess that was also the reason behind Bob stopping calling Helga by her name? He used to call her 'Olga'."

"Did you know Bob used to call Helga by her sister name?" the blond guy nodded. "How so?"

"I don't know." He shrugged "I just did. I kinda remember Bob scolding Helga and telling her she should wear the nametag he bought her so he didn't get confused". He frowned perplexed and added to himself "I don't know where that came from."

"Well, I'm not sure about that one. Truth that I didn't ask Helga that much. As you must remember, Helga doesn't talk that openly about the past."

"I thought she'd come to terms with her past."

"Well, yeah, but that doesn't mean she talks about it all the time and to everybody, right?" Arnold nodded in agreement "But pretty much I suppose it was why Helga stopped being called by her own name and being paid that little attention. I guess, like any other couple experiencing problems, they just tried to ignore it; to hide the elephant in the room. They failed to see they actually hurt deeply their own daughter by doing so."

"Helga told me she'd forgiven Bob before he passed on."

"He asked for her forgiveness and she complied," Rhonda made a pause "But Helga never got to know all this stuff but until years later."

"Really?" Arnold looked surprised.

"But she did know Bob worked for the Muellers in his youth, right?"

Rhonda nodded "That's why she didn't want to sell to them in the first place. And why she insisted in keeping Big Bob name in the stores after she did."

"But she eventually did."

Rhonda shrugged "Well, they paid good money for it. I should've sold too!"

Arnold exhaled. Rhonda turned to see her phone when a new email arrived.

"Isn't strange that she ended coming in close contact with the Muellers? After all what had happened between them and her parents?"

"Well," Rhonda raised her sight from the screen of her phone and turned touchily "I don't know why people think is weird. It's not fair!" she protested "There wasn't bad intention from her part! It just happened!"

"Well, I didn't mean…" Arnold apologized but Rhonda went on.

"Helga…" she paused "Miriam- Miriam wasn't there for her. After Bob passed her condition worsened. Helga was too young to deal with everything. Besides you know her. She was too stubborn for her own good. After some struggling she finally accepted their… attention, love. To the Muellers finding her was a blessing. A daughter! Fell from heaven! It was their second chance to be parents"

"Their second chance…" Arnold mumbled as to himself.

"To Helga it was a second chance to have a family; a loving father. It's just-" Rhonda stopped herself "See? There was no ill intention. It just happened. It was a blessing."

"That's what Helga means when she says that hers and Henry relationship is about…"

"Second chances?"

"'_The gratefulness of second chances'_?" He quoted. Rhonda nodded. "That's all? Henry's like... her father?" She nodded again "Then why they act like they are-?"

"Oh, come on, Arnold! It's just a _tease." _She smiled a knowing smile. He started talking again at the same time she did "The intended target weren't you."

"Why did you…?" He stopped himself to let her go on but then another chime went off in her phone and she put an excited expression.

"Why did I-?" she raised her sight briefly before going back to her phone.

Arnold hesitated "Why did you say Mr. Mueller called her the other day when we were at her place and she received a call that…" he hummed "-upset her?"

"Because he did." Rhonda affirmed absentminded. She opened the mail to see the attached photos.

"But-" he was about to start again but Rhonda chimed in.

"Look! I was waiting for this." She showed him the screen of her phone "These are from yesterday. The Chamber of Commerce Annual Tournament. Arthur just sent me these snaps."

Arnold leaned in "Arthur?"

"Our photographer."

"Is that Helga?" Arnold took the cellphone from her hand and she slapped his hand.

"Hey! I haven't seen them myself!" she chidded him and then laughed. She rounded the table and sit at his side so both of them looked at the snaps "This one is Helga." she enlarged it "There are several from them. Of course I'm going to publish at least one of her. The perks of being friend with one of the editors, right?"

"Did they win?" Arnold asked seeing the photo where she and Dick were receiving the trophy from hands of the President of the Chamber.

"Of course they did! They always do." She showed him another shot of Helga and Dick raising enthusiastically the golden object in their hands.

Another mail arrived then. Sylvie -her coeditor - asking for her chices for the publication.

"I'm sorry Arnold" she apologized. "I have to go now. Work calling." She left her phone to him while she looked for her wallet.

"Oh, no!" Arnold's hand stopped her from keep looking "My treat. Please."

"You sure?" he nodded handing her phone back.

"Yeah." He leaned back. He looked so sad all of a sudden.

"I'm sorry." She apologized again. She felt bad for leaving him like that, so she made him promise to have breakfast together next Saturday. Arnold agreed after she allowed him to choose the place. Rhonda smiled seeing he looked happier she got up and kissed him goodbye. She left the place just in time to receive a call from her new beau and a text from her impatient boss at the same time. She rolled her eyes.

"So much for a restful Saturday!"she complained to nobody as she took the call first.

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**I don't own Hey Arnold!**

**Thanks to Nep2uune, Presley Rox, Jose Ramiro and CarlinJ83 for your reviews. I love you! Your words make me keep going, guys. Thank you everybody else for being here. Have a nice Spring Break/ Semana Santa/ Easter or whatever! See you soon!**


	31. One of Those Days

**Rocket to the Moon**

**Chapter Thirty-One**

**One of Those Days**

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…

**AN. Spanish would be here tomorrow. Sorry.  
**

**Thank you for being here. Thank you so much for your visits, favs and reviews. I appreciate them all.**

**This chapter is dedicated to you all. But in a special way it's dedicated to ****Anonymous Latina**** who helped me out with some expressions in English that had been slowing my progress; and to ****PrettyKaoru**** who encouraged me to keep going despite my block.**

**Now, we can go on but not before telling you that discretion is advised . . . **

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. . .

"What an idiot!" Arnold groused; not paying attention to the other diners in the cafeteria "How's that I didn't see it?! It was right in front of me!" he let out impatient.

"Right in front of your round nose." Rhonda hummed, pointing to his nose. Her face was resting with delicacy on her right hand and she was looking at him with sympathetic eyes.

Saturday morning breakfast with Rhonda came as promised. He'd chosen the place; a nice café located on his same street. He never thought there would be so many new discoveries in the course of a mere week. Only a week away from the day he knew where such an old vintage name as 'Helga Geraldine' came from.

He looked around still having a bad time to process all what had happened last night. Then exhaled and ran his hands over his face with exasperation. It hadn't started on Friday, in fact. It all had started the day before. Thursday. Early in the morning.

The Thursday of Helga's birthday to be exact.

. . .

* * *

. . .

"Arnold-"

_Or had it been earlier? Well, we'll see later. We need to get started anyway…-_

Arnold raised his eyes and frowned.

"Now what?"

The girl cringed, startled by his rudeness. He felt guilty. He wasn't like that but he didn't have a minute to lose. Not now.

"What is it, Daphne?" he asked again; in a softer way this time.

"You seem to be busy…"

He didn't roll his eyes only because he had no time to deal with the consequences of an eye roll. Seriously. The girl spoke from her place still by the door.

"I am busy" he looked briefly her way. In sight of her vacillation, he continued "Are you gonna tell me-?"

"Who…?" there was another hesitation "Tomorrow night…. Are you taking someone to the Ball?"

'_All misinformation will be considered under penalty of __perjure__…" _a blue underline appeared under the last word. Arnold hit the backspace key but for some goddamned reason the cursor appeared at the beginning of the line, and thus making him delete the double space instead of the last letter. He cursed as he typed the 'undo' key a couple of times and then accepted the suggestion of the word 'perjury' instead of 'perjure'.

"Excuse me?" He raised his sight.

"The Ball?" the girl asked again; biting her lip "Did you already choose who you're-?"

"No." He looked at her. "It's a personal invitation. I'm not allowed to take anybody." He grimaced "You know I'd love to take you, but-" he shrugged his shoulders in excuse, going back to his document.

"Is that true Arnold?" she giggled. Arnold raised his sight at the sound of her proximity. Her entire demeanor changing into coquetry "Or are you only saying that only because I asked?"

"Hell no! You're a good _friend." _He made sure to put emphasis on the word. _'What about Matt?_' he should've asked though.

"Oh!" she sounded disappointed.

"Daphne…" he grimaced "I'm really busy here…"

"I know." She pouted, looking him up and down. Then she warned "It's getting late, Arnold. Maybe you should leave it for later."

"Nope." He replied, shaking his head "I just need a couple of minutes and it's done."

"I don't think they expect you presenting this project on today's meeting. They gave you until next week, remember?"

"Yeah, but I want to surprise them."

"_This Contract shall be governed by and construed in accordance with the laws of the State of New York."_

"Surprise them or surprise him?" Arnold detected a hint of mockery in Daphne's voice "Come on, Arnold! You're already his favorite. You want him to depend on you and you alone or what? You could get him some flowers too, I guess lilacs are his favorites?"

He grumbled at her derision.

"Daph-_NE_!"

"Alright-alright!" she chuckled as she turned around to leave "Good luck with your new conquest." Crinkling her nose a couple of times, she disappeared.

Arnold cursed under his breath. He was getting tired of all those pranks surrounding his relation with Dick. If only they knew... Letting out a long exhalation he saw the wall clock pointed 9:45 before going back to his work.

. . .

* * *

. . .

Meanwhile, at other side of 29th Floor…

"Hey you! Where do you think you're going?" the impatient superintendent asked the first cleaning lady who happen to run into him.

"To the janitor room. I need to put some order. The new kid just threw everything in there and now it's a mess!"

"That can wait! Go to 28th Floor. I need the Meeting Room ready in fifteen minutes or someone is having a fit. Then I want you to go help Lucy on 30th Floor."

"That's not my job!" the lady grumbled "They never help me."

"Jeez! I'm telling you, woman! Now go!" he pointed to the floor below "Pronto!"

"But…"

"No buts." The man pointed towards the stairs with authority.

The girl finally obeyed but not without showing her annoyance.

Seeing her go, the man grumbled to himself "You can no longer get good service. Sheesh!"

. . .

* * *

. . .

His cellphone chimed for umpteenth time. He glanced briefly its way. It was his ex, Claire. Again.

Claire_: "So?"_

Arnold left the keyboard of his laptop and exhaled with exasperation. Just one word; two single letters but they irked him. He knew she wasn't to stop anytime soon. How hard was for her to understand what 'Busy' meant? He took his phone.

Arnold: "I don't know Claire. Whenever. You choose."

Barely leaving his phone aside, it chirped again.

C_: "Tomorrow evening?"_

A: "Can't."

A: "I'll be going to-"

Arnold paused. There was no way he'd tell her his plans for tomorrow evening. He deleted the last two words.

A: "I'll be occupied."

C: _"Arnold! You're always occupied."_

C: _"I'm sick of this! If you don't come up tomorrow evening to pick up your things I'm gonna send them all to GoodWill!"_

C_: "I'm sure they'd love taking pink stuff in!"_

Arnold scoffed. How the hell she typed so much so fast? He shook his head.

A: "Saturday." He sent.

C: "Be here before noon!" She warned.

A: "Ok."

And putting his phone in silent mode he resumed his work. He looked apprehensively at his laptop's screen; then at his grandpa pocket watch that he kept on his desk. He smiled at the sight. Well, it was one of the many pocket watches his grandfather had ever had. Sighing, he returned to his work. He had about ten minutes to finish this. He rejoiced to himself.

Three days ago he'd been asked to make a contract he'd never done before. Nobody had done anything like this before in here. He'd started from scratch this time and received virtually no help from Deb. Nevertheless, less than seventy-two hours later it was done. He was only giving it a professional style. Dick was going to be shocked; pleasantly shocked more likely. And he'd get the satisfaction for a job well done.

. . .

* * *

. . .

"What do you mean 'You have no women'?" Grace quoted as she walked along David McMahon and headed for the staircase.

"Exactly what I said! No women." the forty-some years old man replied a bit upset "There're no women attending to the Charity Ball so far. I declare myself incompetent in that field!"

"You mean no women from our party or-?"

"Hell yeah!" he uttered in mock enthusiasm. Moving his hands expressively, he added. "It'll be like a sausage fest!"

"You don't need to be so graphic!" Grace censured him.

"Sorry Grace. But I'm kind of desperate now! Can you picture what we're gonna look like? Mueller; the place where sexism is non-existent."

Grace exhaled realizing his predicament. "And what do you mean by no one? What about Helga? Isn't she going?"

"Nope. Helga's out of town or something." David McMahon said.

"Really? I heard she's being expected on 30th Floor today."

"Yeah, yeah! But she's only coming back to attend to the diner party Henry's throwing in her honor." The man said "But then she's flying back to Pittsburgh, Portland or anywhere the hell she's going to this time."

"Figures!" Grace snorted; almost rolling her eyes. They left the staircase and stepped into 28th Floor. "And Deb? What about Deb?"

"Deb doesn't want to attend and I just seem unable to convince her."

The old woman hummed to herself. "What about Dick and his 'spectacular' dates? Didn't get a bimbo on time?"

"Don't count on him!" Dave puffed "Dick doesn't wanna hear a word about this. He's only attending because Henry's forcing him to do it."

Dave turned to her with supplicant eyes "Would you come, Gracie? If I convince Henry to bring you along, would you come even it's a last minute invite?"

"No! Dave! Please! Don't ask me that!"

"Why not? As a personal favor, huh? Come on, Gracie!"

"No. Don't put this on me! Besides, I already have a date." She paused seeing his astounded expression.

"A date? Really?" she slapped him in the shoulder in sight of the veiled offense.

"Yeah. Me and my true love, Cap. Steve Rogers. I promised nothing would stray me this time from finally seeing him on the big screen." She sighed "They told me to put special attention to a scene with a helicopter, do you know why?" She smiled with mock naiveté.

"For God's sake, Grace! Don't be ridiculous!" Dave scoffed at her "Really?! You choose go and watch a silly movie instead of going to The Ball of the Year?"

"The Ball of the Year!" she puffed contemptuously "I've already had thousands of Balls like that. Absolutely forgettable."

"Yah." Dave McMahon growled but Grace stopped paying attention to the man in charge of the Social Assistance Department at the sight of the corpulent guy coming in and blocking practically the sight.

Stan Wright's expensive clothes and respectable presence didn't fool her. She knew the man was the devil himself.

"Stan…" she greeted him courteously. Her green eyes never leaving his.

.

* * *

And just like the light on a mirror was reflected; his blue eyes never left hers.

* * *

.

"Ma'am," he replied with a slight nod and a phony smile_. 'Nosy old crone! Bet you still think you're hot, don't you? Take another look in the mirror, bitch. You're just a drooping sack o of withering skin; you decayed big-mouthed hag.' _ "Always a pleasure." He pronounced in his most throaty voice and turned down the hallway.

Grace Devine…

Whose business was she messing up with today, he wondered. Grace was the kind of woman who loved trouble just because that way she'd have something to do; something to care about; she would be necessary. Otherwise people would start wondering what the hell she was still doing here. What kind of life was that? Living through the others? Maybe people came to ends like that when they never get an actual life; because they never married and had kids. Not for lack of trying of course; at least that was not the case of our lovely Gracie. Heaven was witness that she tried hard and long to take Henry away from his wife. But Henry would never fall for that game. Henry was a smart man and smart men marry smart wives. Women who could take care of the family and the business if necessary.

His own wife, Lauren, was an engineer who worked for the top notch company that provided electricity to the entire northwest of the country. She took care of her job and their kids and made it look as if it was the coolest thing in the world. She also put up with him. Stan smirked to himself. She had to admit she was awesome.

"My wife's '_chingona_'…" he mumbled in low voice. Turning down the hallway again, he was about to reach the first of his destinations when his attention got lost a cause of the hot brunette occupying the desk in front of the vending machine. He stopped by the appliance only to get a good look at the girl who sported a red number and wore even redder lipstick.

He kept walking as he looked in his pockets for change, eyeing directly at her. She knew very well her business, he thought as she leaned in showing him her cleavage. Oh, yeah! '_Women like you would never be a good wife, that's for sure; but what about having __me, you hot piece of ass down there. I bet you're so tight. If I were your man, I'd have you stretched out in my desk eating you whole. Then have your face under me, your precious red lips begging to taste me again__…"_

"Need some change?"

Stan was forced to stop his precious thoughts when the dream turned into a nightmare.

'_The horror!'_ he grunted to himself_. 'What've I done, my Lord, that you keep punishing me like this?_' He didn't bother to say "Hello" to the most horrifying thing that had crossed his path this entire morning. He couldn't help but scowl_. 'Putting this ugly thing in front of me! Forgive me Lord, but things like these don't deserve to be called people, let alone walk on the same ground I walk on. They deserve to be underground, and never see the light of day so that the deserving don't get eye sores from the hideous thing that they are. God, I swear to you. This world would be a better place without things like these."_

"I just lost my appetite."

He slurred indistinctly, eyeing the skeletal girl who looked like a toothpick. He knew his revulsion was evident. The brunette directed him a sly smile and it was enough for him to forget about the greyhound dressed in a horrid lavender number. _'Who the hell dares to sell those things? They should be put in jail.'_

"Move bitch!" he mumbled under his breathe walking past her. Stan smiled back at the girl in red and hurried his paces trying to get rid of the feeling that greyhound-looking girl was reaching out to get him.

"Stan?" He turned around at the voice. He hadn't realized he'd arrived to Mike Davis' office.

"Hey Mike," he beckoned him to get close. "Walk with me." He demanded "Got some change?" Mike nodded, searching his pockets. Stan led him to the vending machine. "Well, how was the brainstorm? Any idea worth to be taken to the boss?"

"Nah! Same old same old. I can't believe it! I had a word with the team yesterday. We'd going to meet later today and-"

"Meet? What time?"

"Right after the meeting. Why?"

"I want to be there. Take them to my office. It's about time we take a decision. I don't want Dick taking us unprepared."

"Oooooh!" Mike shivered "Don't jinx it, man!" Stan directed him a cold and censuring look "Chill." Mike rose his hands in front of him "How's that going by the way? Dick's still angry with you?"

Stan puffed. "Bah," he lessened their walking at the sight of people forming a line in front of the vending machine. "You know him. He doesn't take well when you're right and he is not."

"What are you gonna do now?"

Stan made a face when realized Hot Girl was checking Mike out. The girl kept throwing bold glances at him hoping he'd notice her. Stan puffed. If Hot Girl were smart she'd choose him instead. He'd give her more quality time; he was also better in the sack -unlike Mike who just laid there- and he was best positioned in the organizational chart of the enterprise.

"I don't know." He grumbled "I have nothing to give him; not even a good idea. Denver is going to hell."

He experienced a bit of schadenfreude seeing Mike cringing. Production was his domain and the entire lot of ideas he'd come with so far had fallen flat. It took a couple of seconds for him to react.

"Here!" he handed him a few quarters. "What do you want them for, anyway?" Mike asked irritably.

"Chocolate bars," Stan said with delight. "What?!" he yapped, noticing Mike gave him a quick once over. Mike ignored him and looked to the hallway, finally spotting Hot Girl flirty smile.

"What is it?" Mike asked in low voice "Fresh meat?" he replied the girl smile.

Stan looked disdainfully at the girl then. Of course the idiot would choose Handsome Mike and not Lardo Stan.

Puffing, he turned around and walked on. There were only two dorks left by the vending machine. He stood behind them. Human Resources had a consistent pattern to choose them.

"I don't think I follow…" One of the dunces said "Who? You mean the guy from Legal? Arnold… what his last name is?"

"Shortman."

Stan paid attention. Seemed that it was Shorty they were talking about.

"Shortman? You sure?"

"I was there when Deb hired him."

"And why you say there's something fishy around him?"

"Didn't you hear me out the first time I said it?" the first guy grumbled "He was hired in the elevator." Dumb turned to the other and raised his brows at the revelation "Just a week after we'd hired a bunch of lawyers! Now he works close to Dick and Henry; and guess what?"

"He's the only one of the mortals who's attending to the Charity Ball?" Dumber replied.

"Hu huh." The guy didn't say anymore because he was busy pushing coins into the machine. They have already taken several items.

'_Is there a party going on down there or what?' _Stan wondered. He didn't say a word because he didn't want them to stop talking.

"And what did you mean by 'fishy'?"

Stan rolled his eyes. '_Was this kid retarded or what?' _

"Who's hired like that?!" the other guy countered. Stan repressed a snort.

"So, what do you think?"

"Someone wanted him in the company." Dumb said in low voice.

"You mean someone from 30th Floor?" The other played along with the secrecy. Stan had to force his hearing to listen to them. They turned around to check the place and Stan pretended he was texting on his phone. The other guy shushed him. "Mark?" but Dumber went on "But who?" he paused "Why?"

"That – my friend- _is_ the question."

"Who do you think is it?" Dumber went on, recklessly "Henry?"

Dumb only shrugged his scrawny shoulders "Him… or Pataki…" he added with caution.

"Helga?" Dumber seemed surprised "But why? What has she to do with anything?"

"Idiot! You really didn't listen to anything that I said - did you?!"

"I was trying to remember all what they asked," he sounded apologetic. Putting an dumb smile – something that he did without difficulties - he asked "So?"

Exhaling with annoyance, Dumb revealed "He was her sweetheart". Stan blinked feeling as dumb as them. _'What?'_

"_WHAT?!" _Maybe Dumber wasn't that dumb.

The other rolled his eyes. "Arnold…" he straightened with his arms filled with junk food. His friend took some of his load and they starting walking away "They went to grade school together or something. All I know is that she was crazy about him…"

"WHOA! That stuff is gold_!"_ Stan hadn't realized he'd remained immobile watching the skinny version of Tweedledee and Tweedledum go until Mike stood before him with a wide smile plastered on his face. Wriggling his brows he turned to him "There we have our distraction."

. . .

* * *

. . .

30th Floor.

"What do we have here?" a harassed-looking Kitty (Helga Pataki's secretary) coming out from her boss' office asked "More flowers, yay!" She cried without emotion. "I'm afraid Helga won't be able to give a step into her office when she arrives."

"Oh Who cares? These ones are so pretty!" Kaitlin (Dick Mueller's secretary) said walking towards one of her best friends "Who send them?"

Kitty inhaled sharply as she smelled the bunch. She read the card aloud:

"'_Devotee of all that is beautiful, I love you dear because you're la più bella of them all.'" She rolled her eyes "Luke Briaschi."_

Both Kitty and Kaitlin shared an amused look. Henry's secretary, Thelma reprimanded them.

"You two are green with envy."

"Riiiight!" they both snorted.

"Don't tell me you don't want a suitor who tells you you're the most beautiful thing around." Thelma went on.

"I'd settle for the money" Hill, -Deb's secretary butt in.

"Who wouldn't?"

"Let me do it," Kaitlin declared taking the stylish vase. "You look exhaust." She was about to get to Helga's office when Dick's door opened. She turned around, startled. You could say she almost had a heart attack. Setting the flowers on the counter, she hurried back to her desk as Dick swept the place with cold, judging eyes, buttoning up his jacket. Her heart had stopped altogether.

"I didn't know I paid you to hand out flowers." He said with sarcasm.

Kaitlin let out a nervous laugh. "I was only admiring them." She took a dossier from her desk and handed it to him. His eyes admonishing her even when he didn't open his mouth. "There was another reunion at 28th Floor Meeting Room earlier," she informed "but it must be ready for now."

He nodded. "Is everything in here?" he raised the folder in the air. She nodded rigidly "How selfish of me!" he ironized "I appreciate you spare your time to do my silly work when you're so busy being helpful. I'm so sorry."

Kaitlin kept her plastic smile and only breathed again when he disappeared behind the staircase. She wiped the stupid smile from her face.

"Don't listen to him." Thelma came to her and patted her shoulder softly. "You know him. He just can't help it."

"What a relief!" Kaitlin snorted; She walked back to her seat feeling strengthless.

. . .

* * *

. . .

"What?" Deborah Tilly stopped dead in her tracks. Her assistant observed her talking on the phone. "Hold on a sec." She turned to him "Get me Greg!" She ordered and went back to the phone.

"Greg took the day off," he reminded her. She hesitated before nodding "Then Arnold… or whomever."

"But,"

Deb raised her hand to silence him "I heard you the first time!" she yelped on the phone. Then she took a deep intake and went on, softer "Let me see what I can do."

She closed her eyes for a moment while mumbling something to herself. Then looking briefly to the Court wooden door, she turned, giving him a solid stare.

"I'll go ahead. I need you do something for me."

. . .

* * *

. . .

After fixing his tie, Arnold threw a quick glance over the seat at the corner of his office; over the black plastic bag resting on it. It looked like an ordinary plastic, non-see-through bag, but it contained his present. After looking for days and days, he finally got her a present. He really hoped she liked it.

He walked to his desk to check his watch: 9:59 am. He only had to reach the stairs and get to the floor below. The Meeting Room was right next to the staircase.

_Knock knock knock_

"Come in."

"Arnold!" Daphne sounded relieved. "You're still here!"

"Oh, it's you again," he said mockingly. Taking his papers he walked to the door. "Sorry Daphne. My condition hasn't changed since you were here a few minutes ago. I'm still not allowed to take..."

"That's not why I'm here. I came to tell you you shouldn't go."

Arnold scoffed. "I'm not saying 'no' to Henry"

"Not that silly. I mean here. You have to stay here." She stomped on her place. "Don't go to the meeting."

"I can't do that."

"Yes, you can."

He snorted again.

"I think I know very well what my responsibilities are."

"Still, I came here to stop you," she insisted, stubborn.

"Daphne… you're making no sense." He looked at his watch "I have no time for this. Can we talk later?"

"No, Arnold. You don't understand. You just can't go. You have to wait here." She'd taken him by the arm. "Tina said under no circumstances I should let you go."

Arnold shook his head with amusement. He promised himself not to forget that no matter how helpful Daphne could be sometimes, she was one of the most talkative girls in the entire office "She can say what- - Wait a second! _Tina?_" he chuckled "Why would Tina say something like that?"

He walked out of the room and made a motion for her to get out too, since she'd remained behind.

"Arnold… I warn you…" her voice sounded distressed. Like a last resort, the girl took his arm and added "She said things can turn ugly."

"If I don't get to that Meeting Room within seconds…" he wriggled his brows as he shot her a pointed look "-now that'd be ugly."

"Arnold…"

"She you later, Daphne,"

The girl stayed behind.

"Arnold! Don't say I didn't warn you." She cried out.

The blond dismissed her with a wave of his hand and headed for the stairs.

The girl bit her lip nervously, standing there in the middle of the hallway. "Oh my God!" she exhaled. But soon enough her expression turned excited "I have to see this!" and she hurried behind him.

. . .

* * *

. . .

Having already forgotten his encounter with Daphne, Arnold reached the last step and precipitated towards the door with a 28th written on it. It was two past ten now, he cursed under his breath. '_As long as I made it before Dick I won't be late'_, he was saying to himself.

Spotting a couple of his folks standing by the Meeting Room, he breathed relieved. He hurried to the door and put on a friendly smile. But just reaching the threshold he knew something was wrong. The gravity of Woody's expression made him stop dead on the spot.

"What happen-?" Before he'd formulated the question there was a loud noise coming from the room.

"_WHY IS THIS ASSHOLE HERE?!"_ Arnold froze. Dick bolted from his seat at the head of the table and turned to Stan. "Get me Deb on the phone! I'm not gonna take this shit!" he threw him a murderous glance.

Arnold turned to Woody who was still standing by the door.

"What-"

"You better get lost, mate." Woody said in an almost inaudible mumble. Arnold would swear he'd added '_I talk to you later'_ but given his discouraging expression he probably only imagined it.

Arnold stayed immobile for a second while Dick continued swearing aloud and Stan fumbled with his brand new iPhone. He was lost. The grave countenances of his workfellows didn't help to figure it out what the hell was happening. He was used to the team heavy banter and teasing when someone's mistakes were exposed, but this was beyond anything Arnold had witnessed before.

He turned to the head of the table again when he heard the word 'spy' was mentioned. He opened his mouth to speak when Dick's voice rose from the whispers.

"You really thought it was going to last?!" his voice poured contempt "What was your goal? How did you expect-?"

Dick stopped at the sudden arrival of Ralph.

"Sorry I'm late-" his colleague trailed off in sight of the scene before him. Arnold would never blame him; he could realize Ralph was as ignorant as himself. The atmosphere in the room was so tense that you could cut it with a knife even before his arrival. Ralph took the folder from Arnold's frozen hands. "This is what you were working on?" He flashed him a nervous smile. Arnold's hand gripped it until the last second. All his hard work from the last days was in there. Outstanding work. But he had to let go in sight of the actual situation.

He nodded, throwing a last glance at the meeting table. Dick expression hadn't softened a bit. In fact, if it was possible his face looked more contorted. He opened his mouth to speak.

"I should've fucked your girl when she wanted me to do it. Poor girl. So needy." The words spoken smoothly held a world of spite. His eyes looked at him fixedly when he added "We'd be even."

. . .

* * *

. . .

Arnold couldn't recollect how he made it to his office. Did he make it through the staircase, by the elevator? Did he just disappear? He shook his head.

He recalled vaguely seeing a stunned Daphne in the middle of the hallway reaching out to touch his arm. He'd shaken his head no.

No he was seated in the corner seat of his office. Alone. A plastic bag in his hands. His mind was blank.

. . .

* * *

. . .

"I didn't expect that; that's for sure. I thought we'd have a good laugh and that's it." Stan Wright breathed out; taking his seat behind the heavy wooden desk once his guests took their seats in front of him.

"Yeah. I thought we'd be having a laugh at Helga's expense. Little _Hell-gurl_ in love, huh? Can you believe it?" Mike asked.

"No kidding." One of the other guys said.

They were at his office. Mike and two other guys from the Production crew were here to sort some things out.

"So Dick went crazy." It wasn't a question.

"Yeah!" Stan raised his brow showing his amazement "I never thought I'd see the boss like that."

"Well, we've all seen his explosions before."

"I know, but never like this."

"I guess no one got relaxed after that scene."

"No shit. Who in their right mind would let their guard down?" Mike smirked.

"What about Arnold?"

"I don't know. He just disappeared. I haven't seen him since."

"It's a shame. Arnold was perfect for the team. Compared to him Ralph's a halfwit." Mike opined.

"Tell me about it!"

"We should take in consideration that Ralph was called in at the last minute. The dude was out of base."

"Well…" the bloke raised a skeptical brow. "So-" he continued after a moment of hesitation "The so-called girlfriend made a pass at Dick, huh?" he sneered.

"Yeah," Mike exhaled slowly, leaning back in his seat. "All signs point that." he made a face. "Did you know it?" he asked Stan.

Stan shook his head thoughtful "You?"

Mike did the same. They shared a knowing look.

"Shit!" one of the other guys exclaimed. "Your girl flirting with the boss! That sucks!"

"Well, she's not his girlfriend anymore." The first guy stated. Stan turned to him with a frown; diverting the conversation from his actual thoughts –and Mike thoughts too, with all probability-. These losers didn't have to be alert - after all – to the fact that Dick kept a record; a record that he didn't hesitate to use against you when you least expected; when he could cause you a major damage. "They broke up… weeks ago. I don't know exactly." The guy explained. He nodded absentmindedly

"One fewer problem for him, I guess." The other guy offered.

"Do you think he's in trouble?" the other asked "I mean… is he going to be fired now?"

"I doubt it" Mike retorted. "Arnold works for Henry too; seems to be one of his pets."

"Alright ladies!" Stan voice rose "For much we love chitchat," he smirked "We're here coz we have important decisions to take." He straightened in his chair "All the ideas we'd set up in Denver had been fruitless, as you well know. Denver will blow up if we don't do anything and that's not going to happen as I'm occupying this office." He ended with gravity.

"I think the situation with the…"

"No." Stan swept his hand in front of him as he opened the second drawer of his desk. "We're not going for excuses. Not now. Decisions. What're we going to do, gentlemen?" he slid into his chair towards the desk to take a chocolate bar from the drawer.

"Right away?" Mike asked.

He nodded while tearing down the wrapper of the candy.

"Right to the point." He stated. "We're not losing time anymore."

"Alright," Mike nodded, thoughtful. "We've thinking… like a last resource measure," he glanced at him "Maybe we should fire the entire Sales Department and replace it with a new, more aggressive team. Maybe is time to eat up the market…"

The door opened with a bang. The sudden noise startled them all and made them turn around. Stan raised his sight to the door where the ruckus rose.

"What the-?" he started; shifting to get to his feet but being unable to do it due to his chair having been pushed close to the desk.

When he saw Dick Mueller stumbling into the room after being pushed inside by no other than Helga G. Pataki he remained still.

"Out!" Helga ordered. Stan didn't liked to be given orders, let alone by that woman; and this was his office after all, but the gravity in their expressions made him stay quiet. "Get out! All of you!"

"This is ridiculous!" Dick exclaimed. His face livid.

Mike and his juniors disappeared in a blink. Stan was too shocked –or too stuck in his seat- to react. Helga shut the door behind them and turned to Dick who had freed himself from her grip and was now tugging at his jacket.

"What's your problem?!" she yelled at him.

"Don't pretend you don't know!"

"I set a foot in the building just now. What the fuck did I do this time?!"

_Shit._

"Fuck off!" without giving her time to react he pushed past her and opening the door he slammed it behind him.

Helga remained quiet as her eyes bore a hole on the door. Then she turned to him.

"What the hell-?!" she mouthed.

"Meet our Dick." Stan smirked. It was somewhat satisfying to realize that even Helga Almighty could be disturbed by the boss.

"That one-" she pointed her thumb to the closed door "I've already met. Longer than I'd like to admit." She exhaled. Hesitantly, she started walking over to him. "Do you… happen to know what was all that about?"

"I don't know what you mean by '_all that'_." he quoted.

"Your boss…" Her blue eyes shone with a mixture of hostility and worry " - being a dick."

Stan snorted, amused "Well-" he started.

She shook her head with exasperation. "Forget I even asked."

"Hey!" he slid his chair back, finally being able to get free. He didn't want her to go. She'd probably never been at his office before. Besides, he felt slightly guilty because he'd been the one who started _'it all'_. "He knew your thing with Shortman." He said tersely. She frowned in confusion; and craned her neck forward as if asking him to go on. "That you two were boyfriend and girlfrie-"

"WHAT?!" she exclaimed with incredulity. "We never went out!" she shook her head "And we were toddlers for God's sake! Toddlers! Like little kids in preschool!" she gestured something small. "Didn't he hear the whole story?"

"I guess he didn't…" Stan admitted. He was ashamed to some degree. Truth that he didn't paid any more attention but to the fact that they were an item.

"Who the hell could have told him something like that?"

He swallowed hard. "I did." He grimaced.

"_YOU-?!"_

"I never expected he'd take it this bad. I thought…" he trailed off at the sight of her growing frustration. "Hey! It's not as if you'd keep the secret forever! I mean, some guys were randomly talking about it in the middle of the hallway. I guess it was a matter of time that it reached his ears."

"You made sure that day would be today." She uttered with annoyance.

"In my defense I must say that I've never seen him like that." her sight turned thoughtful "I don't know what came over him… it was like…" He raised his sight; watching her carefully. There was this weird feeling he got at the sight of her eyes. He breathed deeply and blinked it off. "Well, you know the boss. You know how he feels about loyalty and stuff. Now he thinks Arnold had been serving two masters all this time."

"As if he'd keep something from me..." Helga mumbled with disdain. She then raised her sight "Arnold…. What did he say?"

"What could he say? Poor Shortman. The guy was caught on the hop."

"You mean Dick mistreated him in public?!" she took her hand to her mouth.

"I'm afraid it was worst."

"Oh-My-God! Where is he now?" she looked worried.

Stan shrugged; he reached down to take his chocolate bar, brought it to his teeth and took a bite. "Sorry," he smiled apologetic seeing she'd followed his movements "Do you want some?"

"Stan," she gave him a look. He hated it when his eating habits were looked with disapprobation.

"You can simply say no."

"You're right…. No, thank you." She turned around. "And thank you for the info." She looked back briefly; then stopped altogether. "Stan… I know it's not my business but you need to stop someday. That thing will kill you. You're still young. Have a beautiful daughter…"

"You think I haven't tried?" he replied against his will, sounding almost defeated. He didn't know what moved him to reply like that. She wasn't even his friend. Was it her soft, heartfelt voice? Her caring eyes? "I wasn't like that. Can you believe that I played on Lacrosse Team when I was in college?"

She raised her brows with admiration. "What happened?" she asked, genuinely interested.

"I started working here; met Dick." She made a face that told him she understood.

"Seems that he's not a good influence." She bit her lip and then added "You know you have the most beautiful blue eyes I've ever seen?" she told him, getting close. Stan froze. "Don't be afraid. I'm not trying to hit on you." She chuckled "But I know addictions…. Close. I've lived with them. I'm not trying to…" she hesitated "I'm nobody spokesperson. I hate all those associations..." she trailed off looking at him in the eye "But I've seen that the first step in the right direction is looking for help. Nobody can get over things like this all by themselves."

"Would you help me?" he asked right back.

She vacillated. "I might know someone who could." She reached over and took the chocolate from his desk. "Henry's doc. I could make an appointment."

"Would you do that for me?"

She nodded. "Consider it done." She bit the candy and made a face "Stan! This is awful!" she spat out the bite she just took in the envelope and crumpled it in her fist. Turning around she said "I'll check your agenda with your secretary. Don't make me regret this."

"I won't." he smirked. As she reached for the door, he asked "Are you gonna go out with me when I lose the first ten pounds?"

Without turning around she showed him her middle finger. Stan cracked a loud laugh while she disappeared from sight. "I know you want me." He kept on laughing as the guys reentered the place. He'd given out a grand only to capture the expressions of those dumbasses.

. . .

* * *

. . .

His mind has been blank; but now a rush of thoughts ran through it. So fast that he couldn't get a grip any of them.

Claire… So that was it? That's what she never dared to say. She wanted to fuck Dick.

**GOD!**

His hands swept his face. When was it? When they visit him? Right under his nose? How did… What did she say to give that impression? '_Poor girl. So needy_.' Dick's words bored his head like a drill. The expressions on the faces of the guys. He gulped. He would never forget them. It was so humiliating.

What he was going to do now? What about his job?

His mind was entertaining itself with the personal self-conscious part of the affair but truth was that his job was at stake. Deb was on court and her only instruction to him so far had been 'Stay there.'

Her instruction to Daphne – through Tina – had been: 'Arnold shouldn't get to the meeting. Under no circumstance.' If only he'd received the message through someone dependable and not through Daphne. He… _might_ have listened.

Who was he kidding?

Well, an unerring fact was that he wasn't going to work with Dick anymore; that much was clear. He was helping Henry out, but only God knew what would be Henry reaction once he knew what've Arnold done.

But what have he done, for cripes sake?

Deciding he couldn't wait any longer he got up and left the room with the plastic bag in his hands.

. . .

* * *

. . .

Helga turned down the corner. She needed to find Arnold. If Stan was honest it meant Arnold probably feeling like shit.

'_Poor Football Head!'_ She thought. '_I need to find him before he starts getting funny ideas'._ She decided to head for next floor. If Dick had just dismissed him Arnold has nothing to do in 28th Floor. Just like she has _nothing_ to do in here either, she thought. And she wouldn't, if she hadn't found a madman in the elevator.

An aggressive and always distrustful madman.

'_I should've known he was going to react like that'_, she chastised herself. Not that she ever wanted to hide it from him; it was just that it never was a good moment to bring it up. Now it was late. It worried her just by imagining what could have Dick done? She was beyond worried, to tell the truth. She didn't further asked Stan on purpose, not because she didn't care but because she cared too much. What way Dick did choose to be mean to Arnold? Dick could be outright nasty if he wanted. Her heart was doubling its beats. Her mouth was dry. '_Poor Arnold! He, who was always a nice guy; a kind and well-mannered guy, unlike others'_. She inhaled deeply.

Maybe she should give up, as Miriam kept advising. The blonde girl blessed her luck. Barely reaching Arnold's hallway she saw him leaving his office. She hurried to reach him as he started walking the opposite side. One of the perks of being a boss was that people made way when she was around. Unfortunately, the fact that they stepped aside didn't mean they stopped looking with - redoubled - curiosity.

Helga was not dumb. She'd realized most people were looking at her with interest. They probably knew already what'd happened. She was not about to let them know she care about their opinion so she lessened her paces and kept going with her graceful gait; but once she reached the corner that led to the staircase she hastened her paces towards that oblong-shaped head that was just there; he was reaching for the staircase's door when she yanked his forearm and forced him to get into the janitor closet. In a sec. She stepped in after him and closed the door.

"What the…!" Arnold cursed, turning around.

"Shhh" Helga shushed him. "Shhh" she put a finger on his lips. "It's me."

"Helga?"

"I was looking for you." She started in low voice "I heard what happened. I'm sorry Football Head. I never expected…" she paused "Where the hell is the switch. It's dark in here! I can't see you."

"Helga! It's you?"

"Doi!" she rolled her eyes, although what was the point at doing it if he couldn't see it? "Who else calls you Football Head, huh?" she spat.

She froze when she felt arms around her.

"I'm happy to see you!" Strong arms by the way; and a very virile aroma stirred her senses

"So happy! I was on my way to your office, you know?"

He sounded surprisingly relieved. She got worried.

"Arnold? Are you okay? Did something else happen?"

"Who cares now? You're here!" He threw his arms around her again.

Helga's frown deepened. He sounded surprising - _and suspiciously_ \- relieved.

"Arn…"

"I got you a present." She noticed he spoke hastily, with a hint of craziness. Helga reached out for the light switch in vain. "It was a real odyssey to find you something. I worried you didn't like it. I didn't know what to get you. You're an amazing woman! I couldn't imagine something you'd-." He kept going.

"I'll like it; I'm sure…" she cut him off "Arnold…"

"Great! It's not as if I couldn't make up for you if-"

"_FOOTBALL HEAD!"_ Helga took him by the shoulders "What the hell happened? Did Deb talk to you already? What did she say?"

"No." he didn't miss a beat "Did she talk to you?" now his intonation changed – almost fearful.

"No…" Helga shook her head; not paying attention to the fact that he couldn't see her "What happened then?"

"Do you think she wants to talk to me?"

"She has to talk to you…." She thought she'd finally got it "Are you afraid to lose your job? Is that it?"

"No…" he started, hesitating "Maybe…" he admitted finally.

"You don't have to worry." She exhaled relieved "Deb wouldn't let you go. She cares about you; you're very important for her team."

"But Dick… You didn't see him…"

"Dick isn't important." She told him, self-assured. She squeezed his shoulders again "Arnold, listen to me. Don't be afraid, okay? There's absolutely no reason for that."

"You sure?"

She nodded deeply.

"Promise." She smirked. "Now… what about my present?" her voice tuned to cheerful "What did you get me?"

"It's a bear." He said handing her something. She took something that felt like a plastic bag and frowned.

"A bear? You mean like a Teddy Bear?" she smiled. She didn't know why but the idea of a Teddy Bear was cute. It made her happy. She hadn't received a teddy in a while, she thought as she tore the wrap of the package that was inside the plastic bag. For what she could touch it seemed that it was beautifully giftwrapped.

"I didn't know what to get you…" he admitted.

"I love Teddy Bears" she smiled. "Awww! It's so soft…" Helga said softly "Sadly I can't see it." she added in a mumble.

"It's beautiful…" Arnold paused "Where's the damn light when you need it?" he asked with impatience. Helga chortled at this trait. He moved over but stumbled with a cardboard box that was on the floor.

"Watch out!" Helga laughed again. For an unknown reason, she found difficult to picture a moody Arnold in her mind. Unfortunately there was no light to see his face. She took his arm to help him keep his balance. "You alright?"

"Yeah," he replied still annoyed.

She could feel he was nodding; slightly annoyed. She blamed it all to the turmoil of emotions he'd gone through the day. "I guess it's one of those days, huh?" she decided to play it cool. It seemed that he didn't want to admit he was distressed.

"Hummm" he hummed, straightening out. He took her arm to guide himself to his former position. Clearing his throat he went on. "I'd wish you could see it. The teddy bear; I mean, its' really pretty. Brownish, kinda blond…" Helga frowned, amused "Also has a pink bow."

"A pink b… _bow_?!" she blinked. Something in his voice made her stutter.

"Yeah… have you seen…" Helga felt his breath by her ear and froze "-how little girls are wearing them again?"

"Bows?" she asked in a whisper.

He nodded. "I see them everywhere nowadays. Back then when you were It Girl everybody used them, I know, but it's been a while. I guess it goes in and out."

"Like everything in life." She mumbled to herself.

"Well," Arnold spoke. Close to her ear again. "I just wanted to wish you a happy birth-" Helga squirmed at the sound of his deep voice against her hear.

"Oh," she let out a weak moan at the feeling of his arms surrounding her once again. She gave a step back. "Arn-"

"Happy Birthday Helga. I love you."

Helga felt the weight of his body against her; his breath on her lips. She stumbled back in surprise, tripping over and falling down. The place was piled with boxes, bags and sacks. On her way down Helga hit her back with something blunt and then fell on to the floor. Arnold fell on top of her.

"Helga..." He moaned; his lips finding hers and pulled her to him. Helga didn't know what to do. Her first instinct told her to push away, but she just remained there, still. Something stirred deep in the folds of her mind; something that stopped her from moving. His arms took her by the waist and pulled close. Helga groaned under his weight. Her head fell back as she struggled to come to her senses. Arnold kissed her shyly; almost with devotion. She took him in. He has strong arms, soft lips, and an enthralling smell; the smell of a man. She didn't know why, but she had the impression that Arnold was a kid; that his kisses would be like that: infantile. But the guy kissing her now was a full grown-up male, a man, despite his timid kisses.

She complained again, and then parted her lips. Who cared, right?! If it has to be done it was going to be done in a proper manner. She took her arms up to his neck and pulled down; then started kissing back. It took only a second to savor him and decide that she liked it. She bit them lightly, and slid her tongue inside his not asking for permission. She moaned. Arnold seemed surprised for a few seconds but then he reacted and responded excitedly. In matter of seconds every cell of his body was turned on. A devious smile appeared on the feminine lips at the sensation of him through their clothes.

The wet dance of lips and tongues moving in harmony; fingers tunneling into hair; hands groping all what they could; increasing heartbeats; shallow breathings; the nocturnal air of a distant rooftop; sirens merging with background noises; heat; gasps; hips grinding together; hands tugging at the clothes; hands getting under those same clothes…

"Arnold!" she gasped. "_ARNOLD!"_ she repeated when he didn't halt. She pushed him and craned her neck, looking around, startled. She had the impression that she'd wake on the rooftop of a tall and modern building of a Northern state; not in a dark room labeled Janitor Closet inserted in the middle of an old Beaux-Arts building in Manhattan's core. She felt like being back high school all over again; with the former love of her life lying on top of her. "What the hell-?!" she yapped, faltered.

"I…" Arnold opened his eyes and looked around, as surprised as her "I don't know…" he panted "I don't know what came over me," he ended, stuttering.

"You don't know?!" Helga raised an annoyed brow as she pushed him to get off of her before getting up too.

"You do?" he inquired incisively. She shrugged off the inference.

"Was it really you? - Arnold? - Old Football head?" she disregarded her beating heart and breathlessness and went on belligerent "You were acting weird. You're still out of yourself?"

"What do you mean out of myself?"

Helga could see his frown and fearful eyes. It was incredible how fast people got used to darkness.

"Jeez!" Helga rolled her eyes as she fixed her clothes. "All what happened to you earlier…"

"I'm fine."

She gave him a pointed look "Arnold, you said you loved me."

.

.

"Did I?"

"See? You were out of yourself! Don't deny it!" She exclaimed. Then she turned to him and placed a hand on his shoulder "But don't be so hard on yourself." She added in a softer way. He was her friend and it had been her who'd decided to go on with the kissing thing. It was about time after all; and she wasn't about to make a fuss over it "What's the problem if you say something in the heat of the moment and then regret it? Nothing bad is gonna happen."

"N-no?"

"Nah!" she scoffed "People do it all the time."

"You think?" He sounded apprehensive.

"Of course they do. Dick does it all of the time. And look at him! Cool as a cucumber!" she ironized. She really wanted Arnold to go back to his usual self. She didn't like him this anxious. Anxiety was a sickness and neither Arnold nor anybody she cared for needed it gratuitously in their lives.

The blond boy let out a coy smile

"I think I remember you, once, saying something in the heat of the moment."

"Me? Really? When?" Her forehead drew a deep crease as she played dumb. Then she cracked a laugh at the sight of his perplexed expression "Well, I admit I've done it a couple of times. I hope the other guy has bad memory. He ended up in an asylum."

Arnold chortled.

"Really?" Helga shrugged. "So-" he let out a forlorn exhalation. "So you think they're not gonna fire me?" he asked hesitantly…

. . .

* * *

. . .

"So you didn't get fired, right?" Rhonda asked as she leaned in and looked at him with interest. "Right?" she insisted.

"Nope." He let out a soft chortle. He had to blink twice at the excess of light in the actual cafeteria. "It turned out that Deborah blessed Dick's tantrum. She needed me elsewhere."

"Great." She took a sip of her grapefruit juice. Arnold had to contain himself from puckering his lips at the –supposed - sourness of that thing. He grinned goofily then. His lips still tasted like her.

"Well, my friend. I have to say it aloud. WHAT A DAY!" She exclaimed, leaning back again "I guess you had enough for a day, huh?"

Arnold straightened and got serious then. The bitterness coming back to his taste buds.

"Oh, I wish."

Rhonda smirked knowingly.

"It wasn't the half of it, right?" Arnold shook his head. Not even a bit "And then Friday came."

"And then Friday came. Indeed," he repeated.

And he took air to start telling the happenings of last night. The Ball. An adventure full of discoveries.

. . .

* * *

. . .

**I don't own Hey Arnold!**

**Thank you all for the long waiting. Thanks for reading and reviewing. I really love your feedback. I could never forget of course to my friends Nep2uune, Jose Ramiro, PresleyRox, MarHelga, GRIMMM, CarlinJ83; MeliiMamiii, –welcome you two- Turquoise Girl and Sakura Undomiel. Thank you very much. **

**I'll be back tomorrow to fix typos and stuff.**

**See you in two weeks tops.**

**June 2****nd****, 2016.**


	32. And Then Friday Came

**Rocket to the Moon**

**Chapter Thirty-Two**

**And then Friday Came…**

. . .

* * *

**AN. Because at the end would be none. ;)**

**I don't own Hey Arnold!**

**I don't know -of course - any of the cars, songs, or other TMs mentioned here. Only own my trustworthy Highlander.**

**I'm gonna take a couple of days to catch up with some stories in here that I love and are escalating to my top favorites: 'The Shadow Around His Heart', 'L'Affair' and 'Ever After'. If you haven't read them I strongly recommend them. They are quite the reading. **

**Anyway, I appreciate you reading me and didn't want to go on before telling you how much I love receiving your reviews and feedback. They make my day and give me the encouragement to keep going. **

**Spanish version would be here this eve.**

* * *

Where were we?

* * *

. . .

"So you didn't get fired, right?" Rhonda asked as she leaned in and looked at him with interest. "Right?" she insisted.

"Nope." He let out a soft chortle. He had to blink twice at the excess of light in the actual cafeteria. He'd been telling a story about being stuck in a dark room "It turned out that Deborah blessed Dick's tantrum. She needed me elsewhere."

"Great." She took a sip of her grapefruit juice. Arnold had to contain himself from puckering his lips at the –supposed - sourness of that thing. He grinned goofily then. His lips still tasted like her.

"Well, my friend. I have to say it. _WHAT A DAY!"_ She exclaimed, leaning back again "I guess you had enough for a day, huh?"

Arnold straightened and got serious then. The bitterness coming back to his taste buds.

"Oh, I wish."

Rhonda smirked knowingly.

"It wasn't the half of it, right?" Arnold shook his head. Not even a bit "And then Friday came."

"And then Friday came." he repeated. "Indeed."

And he took air to start telling the happenings of last night. The Ball. An adventure full of discoveries.

.

* * *

.

Arnold took air and prepared himself to start the adventure of Friday evening. It wasn't much of an adventure; but in fact he didn't actually know how else to call it: A tale? An event? A nightmare? _An affair?_

Oh, how he wished it was just 'an affair'! But something in his guts –and in Rhonda's reaction – told him it was more serious thing than a mere affair. He expected that after his recollection she'd be up to further explain what the hell was actually happening.

Although it was just so clear! All so clear now!

He'd already experienced something like this; after his and Rhonda's talking of last time at Helga's. Back then when he learned something that made him see everything under a new light; a new perspective. Now it was all the same. But it was a different situation.

He wished going back in time; but deep down he knew it has no point. Was the unawareness preferable? Was ignorance bliss? He shook his head. A heavy lump was compressing his throat; also causing the sensation of a heavy weight in the pit of his stomach; and a hollow, nebulous cloud in his mind.

"You know?" he started "My mind keeps replaying that scene. Like if it is a punishment. A punishment because I might've been…"

"Shhh," Rhonda shushed him with an understanding smile "The beginning, Arnold. The best place to start is always the beginning."

He smirked. Who was he to protest? It was Rhonda Lloyd after all. She expected a well-narrated tale, abundant in details and sparing no facts. He snorted then. He should've learned from Gerald at some point. He had been an expert narrator all through their childhood.

"The beginning," he repeated "Well, I spent the morning at the office; I guess that's as good beginning as any other." He smirked; she nodded "Friday uses to be a busy day but since I wasn't doing my ordinary job..."

"Because you've just stopped working for Dick the day before-" she continued, letting him know she was giving him her whole attention.

"Right." He bowed his head with parsimony "Because I've stopped working for him the day before." he made a face "Anyway, Deb was – hmmm- letting me know what other things they had been working on; the usual; you know. She told me she wanted me working in those for a couple of weeks before pointing me to my new assignation-"

"Which was?" she asked, rising her hand to call the waiter to bring them more coffee.

"She didn't tell. A new project I guess-" He shrugged. Arnold paused as the waiter refilled their cups "Anyway," he went on reluctantly "That's how it all started. Henry came to my office around noon and told me I should leave early, you know, since-"

"Since you have to get ready to the Ball." She ended for him. He nodded again. It seemed that she was getting impatient that he reached the juicy part of the tale.

"The Ball," he repeated her words again, leisurely. Rhonda rolled her eyes and he chortled "So, I left the office about two and a half; I stopped in my way home to get lunch at the Subway that is located at…"

"Arnold! The _BALL_!" Rhonda whined.

"You were there!" he retorted.

"Yeah!" she slapped her hand on the table, theatrically "But I was working, duh! I wasn't with you!"

Arnold laughed to himself. They both were over thirty now. People their age still made those whimsical expressions?

"Duh!" he agreed; if only to tease her.

"_ARNOLD!" _

He raised his hands as a peaceful signal as he chortled. But only a second later the image of a luxurious sport car flashed on his mind and he stopped laughing. Altogether.

.

"The Ball…" he sighed deeply; closing briefly his eyes to go back to the opulent Hall where the Second Annual Charity Ball of the City of New York had been host. What was what came first to his mind? There were no tables. People stick around in small groups. hosts, companies' executives and representatives -like them-; organization's reps,- like Claire, Brenda and himself were last year - filled the place. He didn't know if Claire was around here today. Not that he cared.

And once again, last year's thoughts came to his mind. Even when he'd thought his opinions about the matter had changed in the course of a year span of time, it still surprised him. He'd stopped being a dreamer at some point. World's problems were neither going to end anytime soon nor ever. Hunger, education, nutrition, unemployment, pollution… there was no end for that. Not even in Utopia. Organizations focused on a problem at a time; trying to help a limited number of people suffering just one condition and that was it. Even the association Henry was launching was the same. The organization he was being part of.

So, looking around he saw nothing but desperation. Too much need in the world and so little will to help. They looked like a lot of people but did little in the end. He shook his head to sweep off those thoughts. It was still better than nothing. He better focused on people. Hurried people, committed people, worried people. Happy people. He frowned. Henry Mueller was a few feet away from him. Very well accompanied by his close – _or it was intimate?_ – friend –_or was it girlfriend? -_ Dr. Wong.

The woman had observant, intelligent eyes and a kind smile. She greeted him warmly when Henry introduced them. She was everything but what you'd envision an important businessman's date. Lisa Wong was on her sixties, slightly overweight and didn't dress to impress. She wore a modest black dress and low heeled shoes. But they still seemed to be having the time of their lives. Henry was the image of attentiveness and she laughed a lot.

They were the chirpiest of their group. The rest of the party of six wasn't that content. Dave McMahon was on a working day, judging by his expression, and he took it very seriously. The same could be said about Nancy Hill, their PR representative. Arnold, who was a simple invitee; Henry never said what was expected for him to do at this event. So Arnold dedicated himself to observe everything; focusing in the administrators of the biggest charitable institutions and foundations.

The remaining member of their group was nowhere to be seen at the moment, something Arnold was perfectly comfortable with. Dick looked glum and had been already rude to everybody. He'd reacted to Dr. Wong's affability with a sardonic smirk; attacked Dave's fraternal greeting with unnecessary rudeness and failed to acknowledge Nancy's presence. Arnold was glad his reaction to him had been the most agreeable to the bunch so far. He ignored blatantly his existence. After what happened the previous day, the gesture had been almost endearing.

Smirking, Arnold continued watching his surroundings; trying to see beyond the appearances; to double-check everything just in case he'd be asked about this or that later. And the one thing that could distract him from his observations happens to cross his line of sight right at this moment. Luke Briaschi, renowned benefactor, President of some Swiss bank and…

.

"The man who has promised himself to make Helga his wife." Rhonda ended for him, letting out a devious smile.

"Is that true?" she nodded widely "Why?"

"Why?" she shrugged her shoulders. "Because he loves Helga?"

Arnold frowned. "Does she love him back?" Rhonda opened big her eyes, in a way that said so much and nothing at the same time.

"She does," she hummed "But maybe not in the right way…" she added, puzzlingly.

"In the right way?" he wondered if he was being too intrusive.

"The way a man like him deserves to be loved." She made a flourish movement with her hand.

Arnold smirked. "A man like him?" he raised his brow without masking his delight for the –still disguised - revelation.

"Oh, come on, Arnold! You know what I mean!" she pouted; an amused smile appearing on her face again.

"Why a man 'like him'" he mimicked her expression "-would like to be married, anyway?"

"Social conventions?" she shrugged.

Maybe he'd wronged the question.

"Why a woman like Helga would like to be married to a man like that?"

"Oh! That's the question, Arnold dear." she raised his brows with mockery. "Why indeed?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, they're not actually married. Helga hasn't accepted him yet." She stated matter-of-factly. He leaned back and took air moodily. Rhonda snorted condescendingly and then added. "But I think a man like Luke can take care-" she pouted "-let's say- splendidly of a woman."

"Splendidly?"

Rhonda rolled her eyes "Position, wealth, security, a family…"

"But not love?"

"Who says he can't?" she looked pointedly at him.

"Well, you just said…" he hesitated, not knowing how to call it "that he's ga-"

"Well, Arnold, the fact is that I never said it," she took air again, seemingly amused by his coyness "But, just to let it clear, Luke is a gentleman; he's charming. He's perfectly capable to make a woman happy; more than happy, I'd say. Give her a solid family and make a terrific husband. If he'd proposed to me I might as well accept him."

"_You WHAT?!"_ Arnold choked.

"But he didn't. He proposed to Helga. He doesn't waver. He loves her. She's the one he wants, but-"

"But she doesn't want him." Arnold ended for her.

"Mmmmm…. Helga still dreams with Prince Charming." She exhaled tiredly "Which it´s a shame."

"A shame?" he chortled "Why?"

"Because Prince Charming doesn't exist." She turned to check the in her cellphone. "So, are you going to tell me how the rest of the evening went or not?"

Arnold grumbled. Truth was that he didn't want to go back there. But maybe he needed it to tell it in order to start exorcising any feeling, any thought or whatever that was still left inside of him and polluted every single second of his breathing time.

.

The Ball went on. Every now and then Luke Briaschi happened to cross his range of vision only to annoy the heck out of him. Had he known the futility of this irritation he might have had a nicer evening.

If only for a while.

Nevertheless, he couldn't help but wait patiently until the four charitable groups that were assigned to them made their presentation – _God! What a bunch of pathetic dreamers!_ _Did they look like that last year?_ Arnold was happy they paid little attention to him because he knew his embarrassment was evident.

Why did they choose to help them anyway? He remembered it being a big mystery to him a year ago. Not only to him, to tell the truth. Thinking about last year experience made him wonder about Claire and Brenda again. Were they in here? He looked around, watchful, but didn't spot them. No sense in worrying about them, probably; he decided he'd stop caring.

He chose to spend his moments of solitude daydreaming about last day's confinement in the janitor closet located by the staircase: about the soft skin of certain blonde; about her delicacy. Recalling the taste of her soft lips; her alluring smell; her waist. Her smile when he finally got to see her face; her intense blue eyes. That moment when they parted ways; sneaking their way out of the secluded room, one at the time, to avoid being seen together. Gentlemanly, he offered her to go first. He remained behind and about five minutes later he cautiously left their hideout. An impish grin glued to his lips.

Their hideout. The smile returned to his lips.

The memory was powerful enough to make him forget about Luke, Claire, Brenda, or whomever appearing before him trying to spoil the mood. Henry was having a good time on the dance floor with his friend. Dick appeared for few moments only to disappear again; a glass of scotch in his hand. Nancy and David making their upmost to leave a good impression, since Mueller Enterprises' good name had been left on them.

.

* * *

.

Soon enough it was time to leave. Arnold couldn't help but feel that it was one of the longest evenings ever. People started disappearing at quick rate and he wondered if everybody felt the same. He decided to wait a bit. No point in going out only to spend a good amount of time waiting for the valet.

Talking to Dave and Nancy was illustrative. There was a reason why Social Assistance and Public Relations existed after all. Arnold listened to them attentively as they explained terms as Social Profitability, Social Responsibility, Ethical Framework and some other locutions that made his mind wander. He observed by the corner of his eye that Dick walked out of the place and decided to wait a little longer given that he didn't want to come across him and risk a scene. He'd succeeded at avoiding him so far. No need to push his luck.

Finally it was time to leave. He said goodbye to his coworkers and then went to find Henry and companion. After biding farewells he finally turned on his heels and exhaled long; eager to leave the place and call it a night.

On his way out he couldn't help but think that Henry and Lisa looked pretty much comfortable together; almost as if they were longtime friends… _or partners._ He turned back briefly before crossing the threshold. Had been they together for a while? Why then Henry pretended he and Helga had some kind of understanding?

He recalled Rhonda saying something of the sort last week, so he made an effort to remember. It was almost to the end of their conversation. When Arnold commented about…

He cursed under his breath barely putting a foot outside. The valet waiting area was crowded. It seemed there were not sufficient personnel to bring the cars up. People were complaining, calling it service ineptitude and whatnot; wanting to have a word with the manager. The few valets Arnold saw around looked harassed. There was a young girl in there; taking the tickets and trying to keep order.

"What model is your car, sir?" She asked struggling to hide the anxiety of her juvenile face.

"Camry… Toyota," he watched as she wrote it down on the ticket "Beige." He smiled sympathetically. He didn't need the valets looking around for all the Camrys parked down there. The girl smiled with gratitude and he walked off, making room for the next guest.

The blond young man made his way to a clear. Looking back he wondered how long it would take. Deciding it has no point filling his mind with inane calculations since there were too many people in there, he went back to recall the image of Henry Mueller happily swaying to the music played on the dance floor. Lisa Wong was obviously the psychologist Helga had talked about; a woman she had in great esteem. Did it mean Helga knew about their '_romance'?_

He shook his head because of the nonsense of the situation. Up to only days ago he sincerely thought there was something going on between Henry and Helga. At least that was they pretended. Then he remembered Rhonda always hinted it was a just a sham; but it had always been an ambiguous affirmation. Until last week when she disclosed there had been _an intended target_. He'd been thinking over and over and couldn't imagine who could it be?

Feeling tired of all this _craziness;_ he raised his sight and took a deep inhalation. His eyes fell on the insufferable Luke-_Whatever_ hanging out at the place where the cars were being handed out to their owners. Making a face, Arnold observed the man attentively. He was quite a sight, Arnold had to admit. An attractive man in his own way; wearing head-to-toe Ermenegildo Zegna and acting like only a carefree teenager would do. He was accompanied by a male friend who copied him in style and high-spiritedness. Arnold couldn't hear what were they saying but realized people around them seeming to enjoy their wit.

Soon he realized part of their banter consisted in admiring, deploring o plainly ignoring the cars delivered; from precious Bentleys to old beat-up Pontiacs. He grunted to himself, hoping whatever their car was, it'd be delivered before his. He didn't want to endure the walk of shame towards his excellent but unpretentious Toyota whose color was officially named 'Crème Brule'.

Deciding he wouldn't enjoy the show, Arnold made his way to the end of the tiled area and towards the gardens. Taking in the fresh nocturnal air he closed his eyes. The voices behind him died down and he struggled to relax. There was no way the waiting would take less than fifteen minutes so it has no point going back; not for a while. Besides, this was a –kind of - peaceful place and the cool wisps of wind felt nice on his face.

Minutes went on. A rush of visions went through his closed eyes as it used to be always that he'd get rid of everyday concerns and worries. It'd been a rough couple of days at work, really. Fortunately he'd been prone to daydreaming; spacing out was always easy for him.

So now, the scent of wild flowers, a green open field…

The vision of the nightly sky through his old skylight,

Mickey Kaline's All Natural Casings Dog Pound –he didn't know why but this place always came to his mind in peaceful moments-,

The rumble of the motor of a small plane gliding through the air,

_Above the planet on a wing and a prayer,  
My grubby halo, a vapour trail in the empty air,  
_

The peace that the reverberating sound brought to his heart,

_Across the clouds I see my shadow fly  
Out of the corner of my watering eye  
A dream unthreatened by the morning light  
Could blow this soul right through the roof of the night_

All what this meant to him…

_There's no sensation to compare with this  
Suspended animation, a state of bliss_

_Can't keep my mind from the circling skies._  
_Tongue-tied and twisted just an earth-bound misfit, I_

.

Maybe his destiny was to become an explorer, not a corporative lawyer. He continued enjoying the sensation. The smells brought by the crisp wind; the images he was able to see through his closed eyes; across a windswept field, the shadow of his plane morphed into the one of a bird:

Was it a falcon?

A golden eagle?

A phoenix?

He turned up. The brilliance of the sun preventing him from seeing the bird, but still being able to discern his striking yellowness; a twinge of pink…

"So here you are. The man of the hour." He heard a single clap just before a cold, sluggish voice reached his ears. He froze. His eyes shot open a second later.

He took air before acknowledge the man standing in the dark, a few feet away from him. "Dick." He greeted him reservedly. They hadn't talked since yesterday morning. An exchange Arnold doubted he'd ever be able to forget.

Dick observed him through narrowed eyes. "Who are you?" his voice was harsh; belittling; demanding.

Arnold frowned. He took air before speaking. Of course he expected something like this. There was no way they'd greet each other with a pat in the back; like long time friends. They've never been like that, in fact. Not even cordial coworkers.

The bunch of mixed feelings he'd been experiencing since the previous day fell suddenly over, making him feel rather uncomfortable. He didn't quite like Dick, but had accustomed to his moods, to work close to him, to gain his appraisal; to –let's say- enjoy it. Truth be told that he didn't know what his position in the enterprise would be now that he'd fallen from his grace.

"Who the hell are you?" he repeated "You just come in, escalate to a place that only few reach; now all of a sudden you're Wonder Boy. The enterprise won't work without you-" he spat accusatory "You work with Henry in his forsaken Foundation… and on top of this all _you were Helga's boyfriend_." He ended with a mutter.

Arnold threw a glance to his right hand where he was holding a half empty glass of Scotch. "I was never Helga's boyfriend." He informed, as calmly as he could. Was Dick drunk? "All what I know is that she once felt something for me back then." He paused "If it was ever true, I never got to know it."

Dick made a face "Right" he snorted, skeptic.

"We were kids;" Arnold went on "We stopped seeing each other about twelve."

"About twelve?" he grimaced in disbelief. "She asked you to say that?"

Arnold hesitated. Truth was that she'd asked him to say that. They actually stopped seeing each other at fourteen.

Back then he never thought it'd be that definitive…

"I knew it," Dick puckered his lips and threw him a last glance before tossing down the last of his drink. Looking around for a place to set his glass, he suddenly directed his sight to the driveway.

Arnold raised his head too. There were some whistles and excited claps over there. An old, elegant couple grinned as they boarded their car; a classic thirty-something Duesenberg Model J _– What?! He loved vintage cars and knew everything about them. He even owned one_.- Dick set his glass on a wooden garden planter and walked away.

"Wait!" Arnold called after him. Why? He didn't know. Truly. He felt like he needed to fix this stupid misunderstanding. Dick ignored him. "I don't know what you heard, but that's the truth." Arnold followed him. Reaching the place where the crowd followed with admiration the historic car driving away, he lowered his voice. "We went up to elementary school together. That was it."

"I don't give a shit." Without directing his sight at him, somewhat obstinately, Dick reached for his wallet and drew out a fifty. Arnold faltered for a second. A fifty? He'd thought a twenty would do it. Then he blinked twice when the taller man turned to him and poked him in the chest. "I don't know yet who the hell are you; who hired you, who brought you here or what their intentions are, but I'm going to find out; and when I do-"

A new round of claps called their attention. He stopped all of a sudden. There was a new arrival. They both raised their sights. A Bentley of some sort made it to the raised area. Arnold noticed Dick cursing under his breath at the sight of Luke and company. Luke also noticed him. An almost a perverse smirk appeared on his lips. Dick's lips became a straight line. He held his gaze; then suddenly he stormed off and marched towards him.

Arnold remained quiet observing the scene. Luke straightened and got away; stopping to stand precariously at the narrow space between the two lanes of the driveway. Two cars stopped at once at each side of him. A white car was on the first lane. The conductor got out and spoke to him. Luke replied quickly before rushing a walk around the car; an appreciative walk. His friend cheered. At the end of his turn, the dark haired man stroked obscenely its rear side and patted it twice, in an obvious sexual connotation. Arnold held his breath. He'd seen him doing this gesture before. To Helga. In a park.

He looked at the car then and recognized it immediately. He felt like being miles away; like watching an unreal movie. Luke rushing his way off Dick's path. Then the blond man charging towards him; hitting him marginally in the shoulder before rounding the car and interchanging a word and the tip with the valet before getting in.

Then he drove off with a screech of tires.

'_It's a Porsche 911 Turbo S.' _The memory of his friend's voice - August's - echoed inside his skull._ 'My favorite car in the entire world'._

_. . ._

* * *

**25 de Junio de 2016.  
**


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